


Night Blossoms

by IntoTheDarkNight



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:40:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 70,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25191805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IntoTheDarkNight/pseuds/IntoTheDarkNight
Summary: This is my take on the night the Lord of the North visits Aelin's tent.  One night, Fenrys is hunting through Oakwald and stumbles upon his mate."Fenrys swore one more time, reasoning that the occasion called for it. What the actual hell? He could call for Rowan or Dorian or somebody, but…it was just a girl. Surely he could handle this by himself. Creeping closer, he sniffed the air again. Yes, this was her, the one the scent belonged to. What the hell was she doing up in that tree in the middle of winter in Oakwald?"
Relationships: Fenrys/Mate
Comments: 36
Kudos: 101





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> No mean comments please, I'm doing the best I can. This is my version of the story because I think something good needs to happen to Fenrys.

Gods it was cold. So terribly horribly fucking cold. It seeped into his bones and sat there, but it kept the memories away. It was something else he could focus on, besides all that he had lost. That’s why he found himself prowling through the woods tonight, instead of curled up in his wolf form before a fire or asleep in his and Gavriel’s tent. Besides, someone had to protect the queen. Well, she could protect herself, but that was besides the point. HE had to protect her, feel like he was living up to his end of the blood oath he swore to her. Otherwise, what good was he? What could he possibly have to offer, to have the others keep him around?  
  
The others were in her tent right now, pouring over a snow-damp map of the forest, arguing about the quickest way through Oakwald. It was a pointless task. They’d been over the map every night when the marching stopped for the day, once it was too dark to see where their feet landed. If it were up to the queen, he knew she would keep going, never bothering to rest until she reached Terrasen. But she had the others to think about, the khagan’s army and the rest that marched with her. She couldn’t bear it if anything happened to them because of her, could hardly sleep as it was now with the dead and buried strolling through her dreams at night. Worse things, too. He heard the screams coming from her tent at the darkest hour of night, only woke up to them because of the dead that visited him as well.  
  
Fenrys shook himself and wiped several flakes of snow out of his eyes. Fucking winter. He needed to focus on his task, stop getting lost in his thoughts. Since the moment the army stepped foot into Oakwald, he’d felt eyes on them. They didn’t seem threatening but neither did they feel like the watchful peeking gaze of the Little Folk. No, someone-or something- was watching them, tracking them, and tonight he would find out what. Deciding it would be easier to pick up a scent in wolf form, Fenrys shifted. While his enhanced Fae senses made tracking easier for him than humans, it was nothing compared to being in his wolf form. The scents and sounds of the forest hit him, and he categorized them as they came. He could scent Aelin, still in the tent with Rowan and the rest of the cadre, hear the ruks and their riders quieting down for the night. There was the fresh crisp smell of the lake of to their left, the guards on shift for the night aaaannndd there. Like part of the forest itself, but more…alive.  
  
Fenrys trailed the scent silently, trudging as quietly as he could through the snow, picking up each foot and choosing where to set it down. At least he blended right in tonight, he huffed, reluctantly admitting to himself that the snow was at least good for something. After several minutes of walking, the trail led him near the front of their line, where Aelin’s tent was. Even though it was indistinguishable from the rest of the tents, whoever was watching them must have had it marked. Fenrys let loose a low growl deep in his throat; gods help whoever was stalking his queen. He certainly would have no mercy. Slowing his steps and his breath, he shifted quickly back into Fae form, deciding he would like some answers to his questions instead of an immediate kill. He picked up the scent once more, inching forward a few steps before…following it up a tree? Cursing under his breath, Fenrys tilted his head back, scanning the branches of the pine for his prey, and cursed louder at what he saw. Curled up on a branch, back resting against the trunk, at least 25 feet off the ground was a girl. A naked girl.

◊◊◊  
Fenrys swore one more time, reasoning that the occasion called for it. What the actual hell? He could call for Rowan or Dorian or somebody, but…it was just a girl. Surely he could handle this by himself. Creeping closer, he sniffed the air again. Yes, this was her, the one the scent belonged to. What the fuck was she doing up in that tree in the middle of winter in Oakwald? Growling to himself, he reached the base of the tree and prepared to climb up, cursing his luck for now getting himself stuck with babysitting duty of all things. What a stupid, idiotic mental—he was thrown back into the forest, his back slamming into another sturdy pine. Stars filled his vision as he slowly sat up, groaning and rubbing his head. Again, what the actual hell? Was that what he thought it was? Fenrys hauled himself to his feet and, more cautiously this time, approached the base of the pine tree with the sleeping girl. Not risking another blast, he sent his magic out in gentle tendrils to probe around the trunk, just to feel it being pushed back once it touched the tree. A shield then. She had set up a shield to protect herself while she slept, and a good one at that, as even he couldn’t get past it after several minutes of trying to break through its defenses. Maybe she wasn’t as stupid as he first thought. Well, he thought, shaking his head, he took that back. She was sleeping naked.  
  
This changed things. She wasn’t just some girl, lost in the woods. If she was the one who was tracking them this entire time AND she possessed magic she had now become a threat. A serious one, at that. Fenrys ran through his options, as he crouched in the snow and stared up at the small figure in the tree. He doubted she was one of Erawan’s spies. He knew how they operated, and doubted they even possessed the patience necessary to track them discretely for days. Besides, Erawan wasn’t so threatened or concerned about Aelin that he’d deploy one of his minions to follow their army like this. Aerial scouting with the ilken was more his style. The magic and stealth, however, screamed Maeve’s name. He’d have to proceed carefully, choose his next steps wisely.  
  
Reaching over his back, Fenrys grabbed an arrow and slung his bow over his shoulder. Let her think he was just an archer, a random guard who happened upon her, to keep her guard down until he could question her and figure out why she was here. Raising his voice and aiming his arrow straight at her heart he demanded, “Who are you, and what are you doing trailing my queen?”  
  
The girl startled out of her sleep, hands lashing out to clasp the trunk as she nearly tilted out of the tree. He would have laughed, if the situation had been even slightly different. Her head turned towards him, and their eyes met, hers wide and alarmed, his calm and unaffected. She simply gaped at him, blinking several times.  
  
Fenrys snorted. “Close your mouth, you look like a fish.”  
  
A slight blush spread over her cheeks, but immediately disappeared as she fully took him in and the bow that was unwaveringly aimed at her heart.  
  
“Please don’t shoot me,” she whispered. “I promise I mean you and your queen no harm.”  
  
Fenrys shook his head. “Bullshit” he spat. “Climb down and remove your shield, and then maybe I’ll let you live.”  
  
Still pale, the girl nodded and began her skillful descent. She reached the forest floor in a matter of seconds, lightly dropping to the ground in front of him and slowly raising her hands. The movement drew Fenrys stare towards her naked form, and he quickly averted his gaze. “Why don’t you have any clothes on? Are you insane? Where are your clothes?”  
  
She just shrugged, seemingly unbothered by her nudity, but crossed her arms in front of her chest in defiance. “I don’t have any.”  
  
Fenrys rolled his eyes. “Of course you don’t,” he spat with a glare. “Here.” He tugged on the bottom of his jacket, but then paused. “I’m going to give you my shirt because I’m a gentleman, but if you try anything you will be dead before you can even touch me.”  
  
She just stared at him with wide eyes. They were a strange shade of violet, one Fenrys had never seen before. “I told you before, and I meant it: I truly mean you no harm.”  
  
Fenrys just snorted again. “The number of times I’ve heard that line…” but he shrugged off his jacket, and almost threw the clothing article at her face. “Now just… just cover up. Please.” To his relief, she accepted his jacket and as she put it on, he had a moment to fully assess her now that she was right in front of him. She was small- barely reaching to his chest- but the slight curves of her body and maturity of her face told him she wasn’t the girl he once assumed she was. She was Fae too, he noticed with a slight jolt. Indeed, her pointed ears matched his own. That at least explained the magic. But her hair…Fenrys frowned. Long and unruly, it fell past her waist in a mass of red-brown curls, twigs and leaves matted in the clumps of her hair. Clearly, it hadn’t been brushed in a long time. Squinting at her face, he took in the dirt smudging her cheeks barely covering her abundant freckles. Running his gaze clinically up and down her body, he noted the dirt that he originally assumed was a tan, coated her entire body as well. He took a delicate sniff now that she was closer and cringed. She needed a bath…badly. What the hell was so urgent for her to be in such a state?  
  
Once the jacket was on, which reached down to her thighs, Fenrys re-notched the arrow but kept it down by his side. “So,” he purred, “time for some answers. Who are you, and what are you doing here?”  
  
Her eyes flickered to his bow, but her voice didn’t shake as she replied with a slight smile, “I know who you are, Wolf.” More reverently she added, “And I know your Queen.”  
When his eyes narrowed, she quickly shook her head. “I do not want to hurt her. In fact,” she broke off, staring at the ground and her voice dropping to a whisper, “I actually want to help her.”  
  
Fenrys couldn’t believe it. “Help her? You. Help her?” He laughed. “That’s some bullshit if I ever heard it. Most likely you’re just one of Maeve’s lackeys, sent here with that lame concocted story so if you’re ever found out I wouldn’t shoot at first sight and if you’re lucky, even lead you right to the Queen herself. But guess what honey,” he took a step closer, and jabbed a finger at her chest, pushing her back a step, “I’m not an idiot.” He coughed and winced. “Gods you smell.”  
  
He thought he saw her blush underneath the dirt on her face. “Sorry,” she mumbled, “I had to hide my scent so you wouldn’t find me until I was ready to approach you. I…I covered myself in horse dung when you first arrived.”  
  
Flaring his nostrils, Fenrys could see she was telling the truth. The scent of the horse dung clung to her, masking the earthy scent he had associated with her earlier. He snorted. “Why didn’t you just hide your smell with your magic?”  
  
The girl paused, staring at him for several moments. Then, in a small voice she admitted, “I hadn’t thought of that.”  
  
This was all just becoming too strange for him to handle. When he originally set out into the woods, he planned on finding a threat and eliminating it quickly and efficiently. Killing things, he could do that. Talking to strange naked girls in the middle of the forest was not something he had trained for. Ever.  
  
Scrubbing at his face, Fenrys took a deep breath to steady himself. He had no fucking clue what was going on, or where to proceed from here. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. You are going to tell me your story and then maybe I won’t kill you. Okay?”  
  
She nodded, but he swore she was hiding a smile. “Yes, Wolf. You probably don’t care, but I’ll have to tell you a little bit of my personal history.” She paused, and Fenrys motioned for her to continue.  
  
“I come from a city where the light doesn’t shine.” Fenrys straightened, thinking of the Valg, but then relaxed as she continued, “It was across the sea from Doranelle, and remained unchecked by Maeve’s powers. The people there were not good people and they did terrible things to each other. Sometimes for fun, other times because their victim had stolen something for them or wronged them. Mostly though, they committed their horrible deeds for fun. They liked to make others suffer.”  
  
She swallowed but kept talking. “I was born different. I hated my people and did not want to turn out like them, but I did not have the courage to leave. They would hunt me down and follow me to the ends of the earth to kill me. But one day, something terrible happened and I could not take it anymore. So I risked my life, and ran away. To make a long story short, I ended up here,” she gestured to the forest. “Oakwald became my home. The residents of the forest saved my life, welcomed me, and made me one of their own. I have been here ever since. In return for their generosity, I protect the forest and its inhabitants with my magic, try to keep the peace. I am their spokeswoman, their voice. I am Lady of the Forest.”  
  
Here, she lifted her face to meet his eyes and held his stare, gaze steady and unflinching. “I will do anything to protect Oakwald,” she said in a clear voice and Fenrys gripped his bow tighter at the force in her voice. “So when I heard word of an army that planned to march through my home, I was concerned.” Her voice softened. “Until I saw who was leading it.”  
  
“You know Aelin?” Fenrys demanded.  
  
“Yes,” she answered. “We all know her. Rightful queen of Terrasen and Queen of the Faeries.”  
  
“So, what then? You just decided to watch her until she passed through, without saying anything?”  
  
The Lady of the Forest shrugged. “At first, yes. I know it might not make sense to you,” she continued, reading the disbelief in Fenrys’ face, “but speaking to you now? This is the first time I’ve spoken to another human in, gods, over 200 years.”  
  
She blushed, that easy blush Fenrys had noticed was so quick to make an appearance. “I apologize if my people skills are a little rusty. When you only have animals, trees, flowers and the Little Folk for company, you will find you forget the rules of society quite quickly.” Her blush deepened. “I hadn’t even thought about clothes.”  
  
“I noticed” was all he could say in reply. His mind spun, and he rapidly tried to form a plan. Should he take her to meet Aelin? Should he have Rowan come meet her first, or Dorian, Chaol or Gavriel? Should he even trust her? Maybe she could see the distrust on his face because she spoke before he could say anything. 

“There is a storm coming, and you will need my help.”  
  
Fenrys sighed. This was it then. One last desperate tactic to get at his queen so this tiny bitch could kill her. And to think that he had been starting to believe her.  
  
“Nice try.” He gestured wildly at the forest around them. “See this snow? It’s been going on for days, yet we keep pushing through. Besides, our ruk riders haven’t spotted any signs of an approaching winter storm. Anything else you want to try, before I kill you?” For some reason, those words tasted awful on his tongue.  
  
“Wait, please,” she begged, eyes flickering with panic. “You have to believe me. It’s snowing, yes, but this storm is a northern storm. You won’t be able to move a foot without me.”  
  
“What makes you so special, Lady? Why do we need you so bad?”  
  
“I know your queen is out of her fire,” she breathed. She hesitated, as if debating on whether or not to reveal more information, but shook her head slightly, as if at herself. “I know this forest better than anyone else. There are hidden trails I can take you on, to lead you northward through the storms.” She clasped her hands together, pleading. “Please, Wolf. I want to help.”  
  
Doubt raced through him. She seemed genuine, but yet… This was war. “Why should I trust you? Why would you even want to help us now, when you haven’t come out of your hole in 200 years?”  
  
“Because of what she offers us all…a better world.”  
  
Fenrys simply stared at her, uncertain.  
  
As if realizing that her words alone would not be enough, the Lady of the Forest shifted her feet, kicking away some fallen snow to reveal some pine needles underneath. Placing her palm flat on the ground, she breathed gently on the earth. Slowly, a red flower bloomed, reaching its petals out towards her as if she were the sun. Fenrys could only blink in surprise. With a delicate tenderness, she plucked the fresh flower from the earth and held it in her cupped palms. Meeting his stare, she explained, “I see that I will not be able to convince you. However, I think I know who will.” She blew a gentle breath on the flower, and a gust of wind sent it floating off into the forest.  
  
A moment later, as if answering the flower’s call, there was movement in the forest and a large white stag stepped forward. Between his proud antlers, a flame glowed. It was the Lord of the North.  
  
“Holy gods,” Fenrys breathed, stumbling a step back. His heart pounded in his chest as the Lady stepped forward and gently stroked the stag’s cheek.  
  
“We have decided, Wolf,” she murmured, still gazing at the King of the North. “What Aelin fights for, what she promises us all, we will fight for, too.” Here, she glanced at him, a smile dancing on her lips. “That is, if you will have us.”  
  
Fenrys struggled to draw a breath to reply, but managed to get out, “It would be an honor, Lady.”  
  
“Good,” was all she said in return. The brilliant white stag eyed him with his dewy black eyes, and slightly bowed his head. “Then take me to your queen, Wolf.”

◊◊◊  
Fenrys couldn’t tell what shocked Aelin the most: the Lord of the North approaching her tent or the violet-eyed wraith who walked beside him, naked except for Fenrys’ coat. Either way, after all the schemes she had pulled on him, it was almost fun to see her knocked on her ass for once.  
  
He stepped forward to explain the situation, but before he could get a word out, a calm clear voice said, “Aelin of the Wildfire, I am Lady of the Forest and I speak for Oakwald. We come to offer ourselves and our services to you.”  
  
Aelin gaped for a moment, before Rowan, standing right behind her, nudged her forward. “Thank you,” she whispered, the awe clear in her voice. Fenrys noticed she couldn’t drag her eyes away from the stag, her gaze fixated on the undying flame between his antlers. “Why?” she breathed, “why help me at all?”  
  
“A better world,” Fenrys murmured, and the Lady of the Forest sent him a small nod. “Yes,” she answered, “a better world, for all of us.” Rowan reached forward to grip Aelin’s hand, and Fenrys felt a pang in his chest at seeing the tears welling in the corners of Aelin’s eyes.  
  
“Thank you,” was all she could manage. And then she winced. “I’m so sorry about your forest,” she blurted, gesturing towards the army and the sea of tents behind them. “I told them to look before they trampled but…we are in a hurry.”  
  
The Lady just laughed, a quiet sound that reminded of Fenrys of a running stream. “No worries, Queen.” Her smile disappeared, as she continued, “However, I do need to speak with you, urgently. There is a storm approaching, and we will need to plan.” At her words, the wind picked up, and the snow seemed to come down in heavier gusts.  
  
Aelin nodded, face grim. “Please, come inside my tent.” She paused. “Maybe we could find you some warm clothes, as well.”  
  
Instead of looking embarrassed, the Lady just nodded and stepped towards the tent. Glancing back, she locked eyes with the Lord of the North, who then slowly turned and melted back into the forest.  
  
Aelin watched him disappear, then whispered, “Will he be back?”  
  
The Lady nodded. “When he is needed, he will come.”  
  
Fenrys noted Aelin’s quick sigh of relief, and then she gestured him and the Lady into her tent. As he passed his queen, she gave him a quick elbow to the stomach. “How on EARTH did you find them?” she hissed.  
  
Fenrys laughed. “Honestly, I don’t even know what is happening. I’m just as confused as you are.” Shaking her head, she led the way in.  
  
Inside, Elide had startled up from her resting spot. Taking in the new guest with a quick, perfunctory scan, she limped over to a trunk against the far wall and pulled out some clothes. She held them up to the Lady. “Here,” was all she said.  
  
“Thank you,” came the reply, and then she awkwardly clutched the clothes to her chest, eyes flitting across the group that now stood gawking at her.  
  
Fenrys cleared his throat. “Maybe we should all step outside, let the Lady change her clothes.” She flashed him a grateful look, and the group swiftly filed outside. As soon as he cleared the tent, Fenrys was bombarded with questions.  
  
“Who on earth is that?” “What the hell happened, Fenrys?” “I swear, if you brought anything dangerous back to our camp-“ “Is she a spy or messenger from Maeve?”  
  
“Could you all please shut up?” he demanded, glaring at them each in turn. Aelin, Chaol, Yrene, Dorian, Rowan, Lorcan, Elise and Gavriel stood in a circle around him. “Just let her explain. She’s here to help and Aelin trusts her.” The queen nodded in confirmation.  
  
Lorcan smirked. “Did she smell like horse shit to anyone else?”  
  
Fenrys let out a low growl, but Gavriel stepped in between them before anything could happen. “Whoever she is, I’m glad she’s here. Right now, we could use all the help we can get.” Rowan nodded, then eyed the sky. “There’s a storm coming.”  
  
“That’s what she said,” Fenrys replied.  
  
“Well, let’s go see what all this is about, then.” Aelin led the way back towards the tent. “Who knows, maybe the Lady can blow fire out of her ass and melt all this snow away.” Behind her, Gavriel choked.  
  
Once inside the tent, Fenrys walked up to the now clothed Lady and stood behind her, arms crossed in a threatening pose, eyes fixed on Lorcan. The bastard only smirked in response. He didn’t know why he felt so protective of her. Maybe it was just because he was the one who brought her here, but regardless, he was going to make sure she was okay.  
  
Aelin walked up to the Lady, and looked her over. “Alright,” she said, “let’s start here. What’s your name? I don’t want to keep referring to you as ‘the Lady’.”  
  
The Lady of the Forest grinned. “My name is Acacia.”  
  
Aelin hummed, twirling a piece of long golden hair around a finger. “You can tell me your story later, how you came to be in Oakwald. But, tell me one thing before we continue. Are you from Terrasen? Do you know the lost Fae?”  
  
Acacia shook her head. “No, I’m sorry.”  
  
Aelin shrugged, but Fenrys saw the flash of disappointment in her eyes before it vanished. “Doesn’t matter. About the storm,” she strode towards the map lying on a beat-up wooden table in the center of the tent. With one hand, she gestured Acacia forward, and with the other she stabbed the map impatiently. “Show me.”  
  
Dorian, Gavriel and Rowan stepped forward to observe as Acacia began talking, but Chaol and Lorcan remained near the wall of the tent, Lorcan’s arms crossed and a sullen glare on his face. “So, what, she waltzes in with Fenrys and we’re supposed to believe every word she says? She could be leading us right into a trap.” Yrene, sensing a brewing argument, stretched up on her toes to whisper in Chaol’s ear before making her escape. He followed seconds behind her, clasping a hand on Dorian’s shoulder before he left.  
  
Fenrys just shot Lorcan a disdainful look, and stalked up to the table to peer over Aelin’s shoulder. His burning hatred towards Lorcan had faded just the tiniest bit now that they were part of Aelin’s royal court together, but that didn’t mean he had to talk to the bastard. How Elide put up with him, he had no idea.  
  
Acacia was dragging a finger through what looked like only trees, telling his queen about a hidden path they could take once the storm hit. Aelin nodded at what she was saying, eyes glancing up to meet Rowan’s and share that silent language only they knew. Rowan raised his eyebrows at her, then said, “This should work, but how are we going to keep the soldiers warm if this storm is going to be as terrible as you say? I can only shield so many, and we’re trying to save our magic for the battle.”  
  
Aelin kept her eyes trained on the map, no doubt missing her depletion of magic, but Acacia said, “Don’t worry about that. Leave it to me,” and refused to say any more on the subject. Aelin glanced at Fenrys, amusement plain on her face, and he swore he could read in her eyes “Fire ass.” He thanked the gods she didn’t actually say it.  
  
After going over the new plan a few more times, everyone agreed there was nothing more to be done for the night. As the others slowly trickled out of Aelin’s tent, Fenrys lingered, wanting to see what Acacia would do next. When it was only Rowan, Aelin, Elide, Fenrys and Acacia left in the tent, Aelin let out a sigh. “I can’t tell you how much better I feel now. Thank you, truly, for everything you’re offering to do for us.”  
  
“It is my pleasure,” the Lady of the Forest simply replied. She gathered Fenrys’ coat tighter around her shoulders. “I think I will say goodnight now, and meet you at dawn to start on our way.”  
  
Aelin blinked. “You’re not going to stay here with us?”  
“You could share my tent,” Elide offered quietly. “There’s plenty of room.”  
  
“That is very kind, but no. I’ll see you at dawn.” Inclining her head to Aelin, Acacia slipped out of the tent and started walking back to the forest. Fenrys jogged after her. She turned at the sound of his footsteps, face mildly surprised, as he blurted without thinking, “Let me accompany you back. Make sure you’re safe.”  
  
She smiled slightly, and looked him slowly up and down. Just as he thought she was going to refuse his offer, she nodded. “Well then, what are you waiting for, Wolf?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Acacia's POV

***  
Mate! Mate! He’s my mate! I found him! My mate! She couldn’t stop thinking it, couldn’t shut off the joyful thread of words from zinging through her mind. Ever since he’d startled her awake out of the pine tree, nearly toppling her to the ground, she’d known. One look at those dark onyx eyes and smelling his scent- sunshine and barley- and she’d known without a doubt, felt a humming and a hole fill in her chest she hadn’t even known was there. She’d wanted to leap at him, wanted to feel his strong arms swoop her up from the ground-she was a romantic, okay?- but he’d kept his arrow trained at her heart, and she guessed that he did not sense it. Either, he did not sense it, or he did not care. She prayed it was not the last one. She assumed it was the first one, after seeing how devoid of emotions his eyes were during their first interaction. He had been hurt very badly, and recently too. Perhaps he was trying to block out the world, to stop anything else from being able to hurt him in such a way again. It put her in a difficult place, but…they had just met, after all. Maybe the idea of her being his mate would repulse him. The state she was in…ducking her head to hide her blush, she swiftly changed directions.

“I need to bathe,” she informed him. “Will you make sure nobody comes around?” She really didn’t need his help, could have set up shields but she wanted to keep him close by. You’re being selfish, she thought. She didn’t care.

Fenrys shrugged. “Yes.”

She led him to a sluggish stream, not yet frozen over with ice. He didn’t ask any questions about the temperature, or how she’d keep herself warm. He just watched as Acacia carefully selected a spot to enter the water and a rock to set her clothes on. She refused to acknowledge her disappointment as he turned away when she began to undress. She had asked him to keep watch, after all.  
“It was nice of your friend to lend me her clothes.” Please talk to me, I want to know everything about you.

“They’re actually Aelin’s.”

“Will she mind? If I keep them, that is. I don’t really have anything else.”

She watched his back shift as he shrugged. “They’re not her nicer things, so no.” He let out a small huff of laughter that she immediately wanted to bottle up and keep forever. Gods, she just met the male and she was already head over heels. “If they were any nicer, I’d say you’d have to watch out. She likes her finery.” 

Acacia scooped up some water and began to scrub herself. There were so many things she wanted to ask him, wanted to talk about, partly because this was the first real conversation she’d had in over 200 years, but also because everything about him intrigued her. But he kept silent after his last comment, letting her wash.

“Aren’t you curious?” she demanded after several minutes.

He began to turn his head to look at her, but then stopped, as if remembering her current situation. “About what?”

“Me,” she said, then immediately regretted it. Could she sound any more desperate? 

He was quiet for a minute, and every second that he remained silent dug into her like a knife. “Yes,” he finally admitted, “I am. I think I’m still in shock from everything that’s happened so far. It’s not every day I stumble upon a naked lady in the forest.”

She laughed, soaking up the deep tenor of his voice. “You took me by surprise, too” she admitted. “Almost knocked me out of my tree.” 

“I noticed.”

“You can ask,” she continued. “Questions, I mean. Ask me. Questions. About me. If you’re curious.” Gods, just shut up Acacia. She quickly dunked her head underwater to cool off her face. Her magic kept the water a nice temperature, but she let it drop a few degrees as punishment.

Fenrys seemed to think, bending to scoop up a rock and toss it from hand to hand. Finally, he asked, “Why did you decide to help us?”

She tilted her head. “I thought I already told you. Aelin offers us—” 

He shook his head and interrupted. “No, I know that. But I mean you. Why did you decide to help us?”

Acacia paused her scrubbing and studied the flowing water, thinking about his question. It was true: If Aelin won this war, things would be better for her and the residents of Oakwald. They could feel the darkness stretching from Morath and knew that once Terrasen and the rest of the kingdoms fell, there would be nothing stopping Erawan from destroying her home as well. That should be reason enough for anyone to fight. But…he was her mate, even if he didn’t know it yet. He deserved the truth.

“A few years after I arrived at Oakwald, I ventured out of the forest for a few weeks. I guess I was lonely and missing human company. Even though I hadn’t known any good people at my old home city, I thought that there had to be nice people out there somewhere. It was just a matter of finding them. I never had a friend before, and I was set on the idea of making one.” She’d never talked about this before-had had nobody to tell it to. She had to admit, it was much easier telling it to his back. Acacia sat in the water and began washing out her hair.  
“After a couple days of walking, I stumbled upon this cute little town. The people seemed friendly enough, so I inquired about a place to stay and was set up in a small inn. At every meal, I would go down to the dining room, sit at the counter and chat with one of the serving maids.” She smiled at the memory. “Her name was Lila. She was very sweet”. Acacia grew still and dropped the tangle of hair she had been combing through. As if sensing the change in her mood, Fenrys stopped tossing the rock. 

“Several days in, just when I was truly starting to get to know Lila, the soldiers came. I don’t know where they were from, nobody said. But they came in the middle of the night and started looting and burning. They rounded up all the women and started killing the men who tried to fight back. They all had magic, terrible dark magic that consumed everything before it. Lila ran up to my room and woke me up, told me that if we snuck out through the back door, we could make a run for it. She said the innkeeper had already died, trying to protect his wife and son. So we ran, hand in hand, towards the forest at the edge of the town. It was dark, and she tripped and fell on a dead body. Her cousin. She started screaming, and some soldiers came after us. She was paralyzed, so they grabbed her first. I fought one and got away, into the forest.” Tears slid down her cheeks, and she hit the water with her hand, making a loud splash that startled Fenrys. “I just left her. I didn’t even try to fight. She was my friend, and I just left her.” 

“I’m so sorry,” Fenrys whispered. A distant part of her was glad he didn’t try to console her, tell her that at least she made it out alive. Maybe he knew that was not what she wanted to hear.

“I could have fought for her,” Acacia continued in a small voice, “but I didn’t. I flew back to Oakwald, telling myself that I would never leave it again. And I didn’t. For the next 200 years I minded my own business, sticking deep to the forest’s recesses and looking after the woodland creatures and the Little Folk.” Taking a deep breath, she stood up from the water, and staggered towards the riverbank. She dried herself with half a thought, and she started to put her clothes back on. 

“And now, there’s a chance to fight again, for people who can’t fight for themselves. I’m not going to run away this time,” Acacia vowed fiercely. 

He had finally turned to look at her, beautiful golden hair glowing softly in the moonlight under a soft dusting of snow. She had been afraid that by telling him the story, he would hate her for her cowardice, want nothing to do with her. Instead, understanding softened his features, and he gave her a swift nod. 

“Good. Let that carry you through battle, use it as fuel to keep you going.” His eyes scanned her up and down, taking in her soft figure and wild mess of hair. Doubt flickered in his eyes. “Have you ever actually fought in a war before?”

She winced. “No. I know how to fight with my fists, and I can hold my own against someone much bigger than me. But I’ve never been to war.”

“I can train you,” he offered, and her heart leapt up to her throat. “It’s probably too late to teach you how to do much with a sword and shield, but I can show you how to fight with your magic and possibly a bow and arrow.”

“That would be wonderful,” she gushed, leaping up from the rock. “Thank you, Wolf.”

“My pleasure,” he gave her a small, mocking bow. “Consider it a thank you from the queen for your assistance.” 

Her heart sank a little bit at his words, wanting him to offer for his own personal reasons. But, she reminded herself, I’ll take as much time with him as I can get.

After racking her brain and coming up empty for another excuse to stay in his company, she half-heartedly said, “I thank you for the escort, Wolf, but if we are to start at dawn tomorrow you should get some sleep.”

“Where are you going to sleep?” he questioned.

“Around.” She grinned as he frowned at her, then dared to reach out and shove him in the direction of the tents, heart thrilling as she pushed against hard muscle. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

He gave her another bow, and with a flash of light bounded back towards his tent. She made sure he was gone before she scaled a tree and sat with her back against the trunk. She tried to close her eyes to sleep, but every time she did all she could see were golden curls and onyx eyes. She hoped he dreamed about her, too.

***  
Acacia was up before dawn. Before she left her tree for the queen’s tent, she ran her fingers through her hair and tried to work out most of the knots and snarls. After several useless minutes of pain and struggling, she was in a terrible mood and stomping through the light snow covering the forest floor. She entered the clearing to find everyone already up and preparing to depart. A male she had seen last night, tall and broad with dark hair and a threatening face knelt next to a fire, eating the leftover meat of a deer. The small, dark haired woman who had handed her the clothes sat next to him, gazing into the dying embers. They glanced up at the sound of her approach, and the woman’s eyes widened slightly. She began to dig around in the bag slung over her back. Ignoring her, Acacia turned towards the male. He was already looking at her, with a small smirk on his face.

“Sorry about this,” he grunted, waving his piece of deer meat slightly. “Hope it wasn’t one of your friends.” There was a small gasp, and a feminine hand shot out to knock him on the chest.

“I’m so sorry about him,” the small woman said, struggling to her feet. She walked over, and Acacia noticed her slight limp. “With everything going on, I didn’t get to introduce myself last night. I’m Elide, and that’s Lorcan,” she pointed at the dark male. Clasped lightly in her hands was a small wooden comb, which Elide offered Acacia with a shy smile. “For your hair,” she whispered. 

Acacia’s hands flew up to her head, and Lorcan let out a laugh. “Might as well cut it all off and save yourself some trouble. I have a sharp knife right here if you need it.”

“Leave her alone, you bastard.” Acacia felt a deep thrill run through her body at the sound of Fenrys’ voice and turned to see him standing with his arms crossed, glaring at Lorcan. She walked over to his side, and some of tightness faded out of his stance, although he shot Lorcan one last scathing look. 

“Hello, Lady Acacia. Let me show you to where the Aelin is. I found you a horse, for traveling.”

“Good morning, Wolf,” she replied, barely hiding her beam. He headed towards the front of the line, and Acacia glanced over her shoulder to wave goodbye to Elide. She found the woman staring at her, a knowing look on her face. 

“We should be ready to go in a few minutes,” Fenrys grunted, skirting around a soldier trying to mount a skittish horse. “You just need to be in front, with Aelin.” 

He was wearing a dark brown shirt this morning with a thin jacket layered overtop. Faint stubble grew on his face. With a start, she realized she was still wearing his coat from yesterday and had slept in it all night. 

“Here,” she said, thinking of the oncoming storm and quickly stripping out of the coat. “I don’t need it anymore. Thank you. I’m sorry I held on to it for so long.”

“Thanks,” he said, putting it on. “I was fine in my wolf form last night, but I feel the cold more in my Fae form. Fucking winter.” The last part he muttered under his breath. 

They found Aelin quickly, already astride her horse. Another male from last night, this one with silver hair and a tattooed face, was beside her, along with a human with dark curly hair and sapphire eyes. 

“Welcome,” was all Aelin said, as Fenrys held out a hand to help her up onto an old gentle mare. As if worried she might be offended by his choice of horse, he explained, “Good horses are rare right now, and I wasn’t sure of your riding skills.”

She took his offered hand, savoring the strong, worn, calloused feel of it. “She’ll do just fine,” she reassured him.

Once she was atop her horse and Fenrys on his, Aelin turned and flashed her a wicked grin. “This is King Dorian of Adarlan,” she introduced, pointing to the human with the dark curly hair. He nodded at her in greeting. “And this handsome cranky old buzzard,” she smirked, referring to the silver haired male, “is my mate, Prince Rowan.” Acacia felt her heart skip a beat at the word ‘mate’, and forcibly stopped herself from looking at Fenrys. Instead, she let her eyes hungrily roam the twin scars marking the queen’s neck. She had to stifle a laugh as the queen leaned in and whispered, “He’s mostly just eye candy.” 

Rowan just rolled his eyes and sent Aelin a meaningful look. He returned his gaze to Acacia and seemed to study her. However, all he said was, “Thank you for your help, Lady.”

“Yes, yes, we’re all eternally grateful,” Aelin said. “Now, let’s get going.” The queen kicked her horse and they started the long trek north.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is from Fenrys' point of view.

◊◊◊  
Strawberries, lilies, and cool rain. Her scent from the coat enveloped him as they moved northward. It calmed him and distracted him, keeping him from focusing on the conversation for more than a few minutes at a time. Acacia wasn’t a decent rider by any means—wobbling from side to side, clutching the reins with a deathly tight grip, knees pressing hard into the side of her mare. But she kept her seat and didn’t ask for any help, sticking to the front with Aelin and Dorian. Rowan rode behind his mate, next to Fenrys. The older male kept looking from him to Acacia, until finally Fenrys snapped, “Something on your mind?

Rowan just gave him a cool glance. “Did she tell you where she’s from?”

Fenrys shook his head, “Only from some small city, across the sea from Maeve. Why? Do you know her?”

“No. Why are you riding up here with us instead of your usual spot?” Normally, the cadre rode throughout the army line, making sure everything was fine and to keep things moving forward. It was a valid question, but Fenrys could have sworn he saw a teasing glint in Rowan’s eye. 

“Go peck someone’s eyes out,” Fenrys muttered, to Aelin’s eternal delight. The front three had slowed their pace so he and Rowan could catch up.

“We’re about 20 minutes away from the pass, according to Acacia,” Dorian informed them. The king glanced up at the sky and swore softly. “Let’s hope we can get there in time.”

Fenrys looked up at the sky and repeated Dorian’s curse. Dark masses of clouds rolled in from the north, headed right towards them.

“If the storm hits before we reach the pass, I can help block the soldiers from the worst of it,” Acacia offered.

Dorian gave her an assessing glance. “What kind of magic do you have?”

She shrugged. “A little bit of everything. Fire, water, wind. I can grow things, put up shields.” At their surprised faces, she added, “I come from a strong line of magic.” She grinned at Dorian. “I cannot shape shift, however.”

Dorian smiled, and his eyes flickered to yellow. “You’re not missing much.”

After another 10 minutes of riding, the storm hit like a flash of lightning. Flurries of snow threatened to sweep them off their horses, the wind whipped through the trees making a haunting moan, and the downpour of snow was so thick they could barely see their hands in front of their faces. As she promised, Acacia helped the cadre put in place a protective shield over the army until they reached the hidden pass. 

“Thank gods you found her,” Aelin muttered to Fenrys once they were safe. He couldn’t help but agree and glanced over at the Lady of the Forest. He had to hold in a laugh when he realized she was discretely trying to yank out the knots in her hair with a small comb as she rode. They were passing between two solid walls of rock, a narrow path built between them. It was thin and forced the army to march in a tighter formation, but Acacia swore it would lead them to Terrasen faster. He nudged his horse into a trot to catch up with the Lady of the Forest. She quickly put the comb back in her pocket when she heard him approach.

“How’d you know this was here?”

“Oh please,” she smiled. “I’ve been wandering this forest for 200 years. I know every stream, rock, and tree. There are many secrets paths in the forest. You just have to know where to look.”

Fenrys winced. “This one’s not so secret anymore.”

She shrugged. “Maybe not, but I know others.”

They rode together for the rest of the day. He entertained himself by asking her questions about her life in the forest. He was surprised to hear she didn’t have a cabin or house and actually slept in a tree every night.

“You’re like a bat. I’m surprised I didn’t find you hanging upside down in the tree by your toes.” 

He was slightly shocked at how happy it made him when she let out a long laugh. “But seriously, 200 years and you haven’t bothered to build a home? Why?”

“I haven’t had need of one,” she replied, slightly defensive. “Besides, even if I did…I wouldn’t know where to start.” 

“Aha!” He pointed a finger at her and rolled his eyes in fake aggravation. “For gods sake Lady, when we’re all done with this war, I’ll build you a damn cabin myself. Can’t have the savior of Terrasen squatting in the forest.”

She gave him a shy smile, looking up at him from thick amber eyelashes, violet eyes sparkling. “I would like that.”

Fenrys found himself staring at her for a beat too long, and snapped his head away, praying his face hadn’t turned bright red. He was a fearless warrior for crying out loud, he didn’t blush. Especially not over tiny forest pixies! He was forever grateful when Aelin came up beside them, and asked Acacia some question about the pass, how far they were before there was a good spot to camp for the night. While Acacia answered, his queen met his gaze over her head and blinked several times. Are you okay? 

He smiled and blinked back once. Yes. She returned his smile and tore off to go find Rowan.

“She sure is something else, isn’t she?” There was a note in her voice he couldn’t quite place.  
“She’s worth fighting for,” was all he could say.

◊◊◊  
Fenrys was shocked when the call to stop for the night came while it was still daylight out. He didn’t say anything to Aelin, but Rowan explained, “Our troops are getting tired. We’ve been pushing hard these past few days.” They had been, too, and not everyone was fortunate to have a horse. A majority of their soldiers had to travel on foot, slowing the pace. Rowan pulled out a map and pointed to a location on it. “That’s where we are right now. We’ve made good progress today, Aelin is happy.” Fenrys could see why: they’d covered much more ground than they would have before Acacia, especially with the storm still howling on. He could hear the winds whipping and screaming above the canyon walls that kept out most of the snow. He peered ahead but could only see a tunnel through solid rock.  
“Why isn’t there any wind down here?”

Rowan squinted at the map. “Lady Acacia said that the canyon eventually curves…here. The entrance faces a different direction than the wind’s originating from.” Rowan put away the map and then said, “Go put up your tent.”

Fenrys had to bite back a retort. Even though they were now all equal in Aelin’s court, Rowan sometimes liked to act like he was still commander. Instead of setting up his tent, he went to find Acacia. They had some training to do.

He found her rubbing down her horse next to Elide. Thankfully, Lorcan wasn’t with her. He’d rather have that bastard stay far far away from Acacia. The two women chatted quietly, and as he approached, he realized Elide was filling her in on Dorian’s trip to Morath. It made him wonder if Acacia truly knew anything about the terrible force they were up against. He didn’t know how quickly or accurately news tended to travel to someone living in the middle of a forest people generally avoided. He made a note to ask her later. Walking up to the two women, he leaned against Elide’s horse, giving her a warm smile. He still felt terrible about shredding her arm, but somehow, she had forgiven him wholeheartedly. He was glad their trek north had provided plenty of opportunities to get to know the raven-haired woman. She was thoughtful and wickedly brilliant, and anyone who could put Lorcan in his place earned respect from him.

He turned his focus to Acacia, who was brushing her old mare down with a ferocious intensity. He couldn’t help but smile and reached over to take the brush out of her hands. “Any more of that from you, and this poor beast won’t have any hair left.”

She blushed, the color hiding her freckles, but led her horse over to where Elide was tying her mount up for the night. “Can I help you, Wolf?”

His grin stretched wider. He was going to enjoy this. “As a matter of fact, I think I promised you a training lesson. Are you ready?”

She straightened up and her grin matched his own. “Absolutely.”

Elide looked over. “Can I watch? I can’t fight,” she gestured to her ankle, “but I like to observe.”

The three headed further up the ravine, away from the tents being set up and the fires starting. Elide handed Acacia a small band to tie back her hair before she found a rock to sit on that was a safe distance away from the pair, resting her chin in hands propped against her knee.

Fenrys faced Acacia, studying her. She was barely over 5’ and stick thin. “Hold out your hands,” he demanded. She did without question. He gently turned them over to study her palms, pressing down on small calluses with his thumbs. “Climbing trees,” she said in way of explanation. 

“Of course.” He let go but couldn’t resist running his fingers over the back of her hands as he slowly dropped them. “How much do you know about knife fighting?”

“Absolutely nothing,” she admitted. 

“Then that’s where we’ll start.” He reached down and pulled out a knife from an ankle sheath. He began to demonstrate how to hold it, how to position it against an enemy. Footsteps approached behind him, and he heard a scornful, “You’re teaching her knives first? What is a knife going to do against a sword?”

His blood began to hum with anger as Fenrys looked over and saw Lorcan standing beside Elide, arms crossed over his chest and a smirk on his face. Fenrys swore he’d made a comment just to annoy him. Lorcan most likely didn’t give two fucks if Acacia even survived the war.

“Worry about yourself, you useless prick. She already knows self-defense.”

“Why not teach her how to use a bow and arrow? You really think it would be a good idea to have her in the front lines with only a knife?” Gavriel had followed Lorcan over, and his former mentor was giving him a stare full of disapproval.

“She’s not going to be on the front lines for crying out loud—” 

“Damn right she’s not!” Aelin stalked over, hands on her hips, Rowan trailing behind her. “She’s not going anywhere near the front lines!” She gave him a truly intimidating glare, daring him to disagree.  
Rowan nodded. “Better to put her behind, with the archers, if she’s even going to fight at all.”

“First of all, she’s standing right here. And what do you mean, ‘if she’s even going to fight at all’? Of course she’s going to fight! We’d be stupid not to have another magic wielder fight for us and—” 

“Why don’t you teach her how to use her magic in a fight? She’d be better off learning how to control it on the battlefield first,” Dorian suggested, appearing out of nowhere. “I could help teach her; it seems like we possess similar forms of magic.”

“I’m perfectly capable of teaching her, thank you. And I don’t know how much she knows about using her magic to fight. I’ll get to that, I just wanted to teach her the basics first.”

“Oh, Chaol is good at that!” Yrene exclaimed, looking over at her husband, who leaned on a cane next to her. The two had come to join the gathering party and see what was going on. “Who needs to be taught the basics? He taught a group of healers at the Torre. They loved it,” she added slyly. 

Fenrys blew out an exasperated breath before exploding, “Listen, thanks for the incredibly helpful input, but I can handle this. I’m sure all of you are extremely busy, so why don’t you go back to what you were doing before? I’m going to go train Acacia.” Grabbing her arm, he dragged her away from the assembled group, tossing over his shoulder, “Elide, you’re welcome to come along. But only Elide.”

He heard Aelin’s cackling laughter ring out behind him, and the sound chased them as they moved farther from the dissembling group. 

“So that’s the court that’s going to change the world,” Acacia teased.

“Unfortunately, yes. The world is doomed.”

Once Fenrys was absolutely certain there was enough space between them to remain unheard and undisturbed, and oversaw Elide had a decent spot to observe, he turned to Acacia and held out the knife. “Despite their insistence that I know absolutely nothing, we are going to continue with knife fighting. What did I teach you before we were rudely interrupted?”

She narrowed her eyes in concentration, and skillfully demonstrated what she remembered. 

“Good,” he grunted. “Now, for the next part…” They continued on until the sun sank and Acacia floated orbs of flame in the air above them so they could see. Fenrys only halted when he noticed Elide nodding off to sleep in the background.

“Enough for today. We can continue tomorrow night.” He hesitated, suddenly unsure. “Only if you want to, of course. We can always bring in Dorian to show you how to fight with your magic. That was the one good idea I actually heard out of all of them.”

He felt a spurt of relief when Acacia shook her head. “I’ll ask him tomorrow morning. He can teach me while we ride. I’d rather train with you at night.”

He smirked, and couldn’t stop himself from saying, “We can do all the nighttime training you desire, Lady.”

She smacked his arm. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it!”

With Elide slowly ambling after them, they headed back to where the army had set up the tents for the night. “Where are you going to sleep tonight? There’s no trees for you to hang by your toes from.”  
“Elide offered to let me share her tent. She’ll have to kick Lorcan out, but she said he wouldn’t mind.” She seemed to doubt the amount of truth in that statement. Fenrys internally sighed and prepared himself for a night squeezed between Gavriel and a grumpy Lorcan, who would now have to share their tent. He’d rather have Acacia share his tent than Lorcan. He quickly shook that thought out of his head and dolefully watched Elide walk ahead to go find the unlucky male. Without thinking, he grabbed Acacia’s arm before she could follow. “Wait.”

She raised her eyebrows, and he panicked. It hit him that he didn’t actually have anything to say, he just hadn’t wanted her to leave yet.

“You did really well tonight,” he blurted. “You catch on quickly. Who trained you before?”

Her face darkened, and for a second, he didn’t think she would answer. “My sister did,” she eventually replied. 

“You have a sister?”

“Three of them, actually.”

She was more closed off than he had ever seen her so far, but… in the river last night, she had given him permission to ask questions. 

“Tell me about them?”  
She studied his face, then decisively shook her head. “Not tonight.” Without another word, she walked away, leaving him by himself wondering if he had pushed too far. Stumbling back to his tent, he realized that he barely knew her. If someone he had just met asked him questions about Connall he would skin them alive and then bite their head off for good measure. He’d probably pushed too far. Should he go find her and apologize? But what would he say? ‘Sorry I’m a psychotic asshole who is so far removed from reality I don’t know when to quit?’ Never in his life had he chased after a woman before, why should he start now? And gods, now he was thinking about Connall. Was there any point in trying to sleep tonight, when the floodgates that kept his brother firmly out of his thoughts and out of his dreams were now wide open? Why did he do this to himself? To make things even worse, Lorcan would probably try to spoon him tonight in his sleep. 

Fenrys reached the tent at the same time as Gavriel and gave his old mentor a hushed warning. “If you wake up and the bastard is missing a limb, just know he fully deserved it.”

The Lion just sighed, deeply pained. “I’ll sleep in the middle tonight.” 

Fenrys snapped open the tent flap to find Lorcan already inside, sharpening his hunting knife. He looked up; a menacing grin plastered on his face. “What did you say about missing limbs, Wolf?”

Gavriel sighed again, but Fenrys just reached for his dagger. This was going to be a fun night.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Acacia's POV. This chapter dives deeper into her past. She has a nice talk with Elide and figures out what to do about Fenrys.

***

“Tell me about them?”

She blanched, his question repeating over and over in her mind, bouncing off the walls she had set firmly in place- a barricade against the raging tide of the past that threatened to pull her down and drown her. When was the last time she’d even thought about her sisters? Could she even picture their faces? She remembered they all shared violet eyes, passed down from their father. That’s where the similarities ended. Their father had never confirmed the theory, but they all must have had different mothers, none of them sticking around long enough except to drop the newborn off at their father’s doorstep. Her older sisters both have jet black hair, but Zinnia is dark skinned and curvier where Marigold has more angular features and thicker wavier hair. And her younger sister…oh gods, beautiful fair Iris. Where any of them still alive? She had just left, abandoning them. They hadn’t needed her, hadn’t actually made any kind of indication that they wanted her in their lives at all, but that was how it had to be. In their home, any sign of affection was weakness, even between family. She was sure they possessed at least a tiny shred of affection towards her. After all, Zinnia had trained her, ruled over the matches she made Acacia and Marigold fight in every morning. With Marigold 6 years her senior, the fights had been unfair from the start, but it was where Acacia learned to defend herself against bigger opponents. When Marigold stopped being a challenge for her, she got her ass beat to a pulp by a gleeful Zinnia and then by the older boys who always hung around in the back alley by their house. Soon enough, after a plethora of broken ribs and bruised eyes, she’d learned their tricks and eventually beat the shit out of them. It only happened once, though. They came back with a bigger group and hunted her for days. After she left her home, there hadn’t been a need for her to fight. She was sure her skills were more than rusty, which was why (or, one of the reasons why) she had jumped at the opportunity to train with Fenrys.

Lurching back to reality, Acacia quickly shook her head and murmured vaguely, “Not tonight.” She turned sharply on her heel and headed towards Elide’s tent. There was a dull roar sounding in her head, that amplified in intensity with every step she took away from Fenrys. She shouldn’t have been so abrupt, shouldn’t have shut him down like that when he was showing an interest in her, but she couldn’t help it. She was willing to answer any other question he had, would lay her soul bare for him, but she wasn’t ready to talk to him about her family or her home. Not yet. Not when she had no idea if he’d understand. Not when he was just beginning to look at her with a glimmer of warmth in his mesmerizing eyes. Once she told him the truth about where she came from, she guaranteed he wouldn’t be looking at her like that once the conversation ended. 

Desperately praying Elide was already asleep, she softly opened the tent flap, stepped inside, and mentally cursed to see her companion sitting up cross-legged on a bedroll, waiting for her.  
Acacia nodded at her, hoping she’d get the memo that she didn’t want to talk, and went to sit down on the empty bedroll beside Elide’s. She was still wearing Aelin’s clothes and was probably beginning to smell. Elide would just have to put up with it until she could find some new clothes or wash them in a river or pond. She didn’t seem like the type to comment anyway.

“Fenyrs is a wonderful trainer, isn’t he?”

Apparently, Elide wasn’t so observant after all. Yet, when Acacia looked over at her, there was some sort of knowing look hiding in her eyes. Acacia suddenly got the sense that Elide knew more about other people than she liked to let on and let them see her in whatever way would be most beneficial to her. She must have something she wanted to talk about, some reason for starting this conversation with her.

“Yes, he is,” she cautiously replied.

“Rowan trained him, you know.”

“I did not.”

“Mmhm. They all used to train together, used to serve Maeve.”

Acacia straightened. “Who did?”

“The cadre. That’s what Aelin calls them. Lorcan, Rowan, Gavriel and Fenrys. They used to be bloodsworn to her.”

“What happened?” she breathed. Fenrys had served Maeve? What was he doing here with Aelin?

Elide smirked. “Aelin happened.”

Unsatisfied with that vague answer, Acacia just stared at her.

Elide just shrugged. “It’s a long story. Basically, Aelin made a trade for Rowan to be freed of the oath, Gavriel and Lorcan were stripped of it for making Maeve unhappy, and Fenrys broke it of his own volition.”

“How is that possible? Wouldn’t he be dead?”

“He did it to save Aelin,” she said quietly, a hint of sadness creeping into her voice. What had happened that demanded Fenrys to break his bloodoath- one of the strongest forces ruling their world- to save the queen?

“Why?” was all she could ask.

“That’s his story to tell.” Acacia almost snarled at the unsatisfactory response, almost shook Elide by the shoulders and demanded she tell her more. She had told her this much after all.

“Why did you tell me all that?”

Elide paused, considering. Then, “Because I would want to know everything about my mate.”

Acacia froze, Elide’s words hitting her in the chest with a force stronger than any of the hits she’d taken as a child. “How did you know?” she managed to squeak out.

“I have a strong sense that allows me to read people. That’s all.”

“I’m…I’m speechless. Does he know?” She panicked at the thought. If Elide knew… then who else did, too?

“No, don’t worry. He’s clueless. So are the others.”

That should have made her feel better…but somehow, it only ripped open a hole in her chest. Acacia threw herself face down on the bedroll and moaned. “Why doesn’t he know?”

“I think the better question,” Elide said gently, “Is why haven’t you told him?”

Acacia rolled over onto her back and folded her hands neatly on her chest. Why hadn’t she indeed. “At first, I was just in shock. I never expected any of you to find me, and then suddenly there he was. I was so overwhelmed with how beautiful he was that I didn’t even notice the arrow he had aimed at my chest. Then when I got closer, I just smelled his scent and I knew.” She shrugged. “It sounds cliched, but it’s true. I could feel it, here.” She tapped her chest, the place where the small hole sang. “I knew he would be it for me, that he could give me anything and everything I ever wanted out of life. He could make me undeniably happy. And I looked up into his face and there was nothing there. He had no idea. I kept wondering, how could he not know? Does he not feel this overwhelming urge to be close? To touch? His eyes were just so empty. The only reason I could come up with was that he’s been hurt and wants to shut the world out. But by shutting the world out, he’s shutting me out with it.” Her voice cracked on the last words, and a sob crept threateningly up in her throat. She fought to swallow it back down.

Elide was silent for a long time, and when Acacia finally looked over, the other girl was just staring at her, eyes misted with tears. Elide took a deep breath, then said, “Fenrys was hurt very very badly. What he and Aelin have gone through, it’s a wonder they’re still standing. But as I said, what happened to them is not my story to tell. However, I think that, when he’s ready, and when he has the right person to listen—" she shot Acacia a meaningful glance, “—he’ll find it’s a relief to get the weight of his story off his chest.”

She considered it. “Thank you Elide. For telling me.” 

“You’re welcome. I’m always here for you to talk to. And, I hope when you tell him, he’s ready to hear it.”

Acacia sighed. “Me too.”

***  
When the sun peaked its radiant crown above the horizon, Acacia met it with a new kind of peace. She had spent the night perfecting what she planned to say to Fenrys. She’d decided that it would be better to wait to tell him, until they got to know each other better. They had a unique, hesitant sort of trust between them that she hoped she hadn’t shattered last night when she’d walked away instead of answering his question. So her first order of business today would be to rectify that, and slowly start to build their relationship. Brick by brick. That’s how she’d do it. Every move would be meaningful, every conversation a chance for him to see how wonderful they could be together, every gesture meant to highlight how much she cared. She wouldn’t push him—wouldn’t even dream of it. They’d go at his pace, until he was ready to let the world in again. She was Fae and immortal—she would wait until the trees faded back into the earth and the rain wore down the mountains if that’s what he needed.  
She had her plan, but only one thing worried her. Hopefully, Fenrys would realize they were mates by himself. She would eventually tell him if he didn’t, but would he be mad that she’d waited so long to tell him? Would he prefer that she tell him right away? She didn’t know, but after her talk with Elide last night, she prayed she was doing the right thing by waiting.

Gavriel was the first person she saw that morning. The warrior was taking down the tent the three males had shared, but Lorcan and Fenrys were nowhere to be seen.

She hesitantly walked over to him, approaching with more confidence when he saw her and said good morning. 

“How was last night?” she asked timidly, hoping it hadn’t been as bad as Fenrys had imagined. 

Gavriel’s eyes squinted. “Not the most peaceful night of sleep I’ve ever had, but also not the worst,” he reassured. “Nobody came out missing any limbs, so I count that as a win.”

“I’m sorry,” Acacia apologized. “If there’s an extra tent, I really don’t mind sleeping by myself.” 

“I’ll see what I can find, Lady. If not, they can learn to deal with sharing.” 

Finishing up with the tent, Gavriel suggested they go find Aelin to see what the queen’s plans were for the morning. With the Lion by her side, they found the queen leaning on her horse munching on a piece of dried rabbit meat, impatiently waiting for the rest of the army to pack up.

“Ah, there you are! Let’s get moving!” Gavriel murmured something in the queen’s ear, and when she nodded, he headed off in the direction of the tents, bidding Acacia farewell. 

Aelin stretched and yawned, a bit obnoxiously. “I had the worst time getting to sleep last night,” she complained. “I miss sleeping on a real mattress. After we win this war, the first thing I’m going to do is make Rowan pluck a thousand chickens to fill my royal mattress.” Even though the queen’s tone was light and bubbly, Acacia noticed the tight lines and puffy bags surrounding her eyes. 

Feeling the need to reassure her, Acacia said, “If we keep the same pace as yesterday, we’ll make it out of this pass today and back into the forest. From there, we should only have two more days of riding before we reach Terrasen.” 

Aelin smiled. “That’s what I like to hear,” she purred. She straightened up and moved to get on her horse. “Go find your ride, Lady of the Forest. We have a long day ahead of us.”

Acacia found her horse where she had tied it up last night. Her heart started beating loudly in her chest when she noticed a familiar figure atop his own horse besides her own. 

“Good morning, Lady.” 

“Good morning, Wolf.” Gods damn her, but she wanted to throw her plan straight into the burning pits of Hellas’ realm. His curly hair was atrocious this morning, sticking up in ferocious spikes. She wanted to run her fingers through it. She wanted to throw her arms around him, knock him off his horse and show him just how good she could be to him. Every part of her burned and blistered and screamed for her to tell him the truth. Stick to the plan, stick to the plan, stick to the motherfucking plan, she reminded herself. So instead of knocking him off his horse, she simply said, “Zinnia, Marigold and Iris.”

He squinted, clearly assessing her for a head injury. “What?”

She took a deep breath to calm and steady herself before replying. Brick by brick, she would build this relationship between them. “My sisters. Their names are Zinnia, Marigold, and Iris. Zinnia was the one who taught me how to fight, and Marigold was my punching bag. Well, technically I was hers until I learned how to start blocking correctly.” She gave him a wavering smile. “We all taught Iris. She’s the youngest.”

He stared at her, apparently at a loss for words. She shuffled on her feet, hating how awkward she felt. “You asked, last night.”

“I did.” He smiled, finally. “Get on your horse and tell me some more.”

She couldn’t hide her smile and she mounted her horse and kept talking. “I woke up one morning when I was five to Zinnia smacking my face. She hauled me out of bed and said it time I started to learn how to fend for myself. I guess she was tired of getting me out of trouble. She took me out to the street, hauled Marigold out by her braid, and had us start fighting each other. She was really strict about form, wouldn’t let us stop until we were swaying on our feet. It’s what kept me alive, though, her tough training. She might have done it for selfish reasons, but I like to think she was looking out for me.”

Fenrys shook his head. “You started when you were five?”

Acacia nodded. “You couldn’t have been much older than that when you first picked up a sword.”

“I was seven. My father’s master of arms got tired of me bothering him, so he gave me a wooden sword, sat me in front of a straw dummy and told me to have at it. Maybe not the most sophisticated introduction to sword play, but it shut me up.” 

Acacia echoed his words from earlier. “Tell me more.”

He smiled and did. Tagging behind the queen and her mate, Fenrys and Acacia trotted side by side for the duration of the day. Piece by piece, the bricks began to fall into place.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenrys takes Acacia to a heated spring, and things between them get intense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took me longer to write because I'm still unsure about how to write for Fenrys as a character. There's not a whole lot to go off of, unfortunately :( . Also, this chapter gets steamy, just a heads up.

◊◊◊  
Inviting Dorian was not a mistake, inviting Dorian was not a mistake, inviting Dorian was not a mistake. Fenrys was wearing a path through the snow, trampling down the dead grass and trying to stomp down on his rising irritation as well. They would be at war in two days, he reminded himself. She needed to train with her magic.

Part of him wanted to call a stop to the training right now, and forbid Acacia from going anywhere near the battlefield. This was only their second training session gods above, and only their first with magic. She would have, what? One more session tomorrow night and then maybe a shorter one the following night because in the morning they’d be marching to fight. Four training sessions after 200 years of living peacefully in the forest. And they were just going to let her march against Valg soldiers, who possessed countless more years of fighting experience than her? Who were so dark and ruthless even HE shuddered to think about going sword to sword with them? He had to talk with her tonight, make her see sense. Maybe she could stay with the healers, guard Yrene or use her magic to help heal somehow. 

Currently, Dorian was showing her how to make shields with her magic, something Rowan had undoubtedly taught him. The king’s fiery shields mimicked Aelin’s. Acacia, however, chose to make her shields out of a curious mixture of leaves and wind. They worked and were strong enough to deflect and destroy the blasts of magic and ice arrows Dorian threw her way. She was sending whips of power right back at him as she dodged, ropes and bursts of bright orange flame, whipping winds, biting ice and snow, and rays of a violent purple light that Fenrys had never seen before.

Acacia was good, he had to admit. She was nowhere near warrior status, nowhere close to creating the kinds of destruction Aelin could cause with a sword or the magic she used to have; but her sisters had taught her well. He’d made up his mind though—no matter how good she was or how much she learned during these sessions, he would not let her fight. Aelin and Acacia could snarl and curse at him all they wanted; he would not budge on this.

He stepped forward, holding up a hand and Dorian flung one last arrow at Acacia before turning to look at him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. That’s enough for one night.”

Acacia tilted her head at him, slightly out of breath. “It feels like we just started,” she panted.

“You’ve been at it for almost two hours.” He could feel her power now that she’d let it loose and he knew to look for it. It felt like warm rays of sun, playful and charming, yet deadly strong. It would be a mistake to not take her seriously. 

She wiped a sleeve across her forehead, new clothes that Aelin had given her this morning along with a quip about how much she stank. The shirt and pants were too long for Acacia’s shorter stature, and she had to roll both the pant legs and the sleeves up if she didn’t want them flopping around as she fought. It had made him smile when he first spotted it.

“Two hours, gods. Thank you, Dorian, for your help. I really learned a lot.”

The king bowed. “It was my pleasure, Lady. We can continue tomorrow.”

Fenrys cut Acacia off before she could agree. “I am going to train her tomorrow.”

They both looked at him, but he ignored Acacia’s curious glance.

Dorian just shrugged, reading the warning Fenrys kept barely concealed on his face. “I see. If you change your mind, you’ll know where to find me. Goodnight, Lady.” Dorian reached out a hand towards Acacia, and with a soft flash of light, a small glowing lily made from crystallized ice rested on his palm. 

Fenrys hated the blinding smile on her face as she lightly took it from the king. “Thank you,” she breathed. 

Dorian nodded at both of them, and without another word, turned and headed back to camp.

“We need to talk.” Pressing a hand to the small of her back, Fenrys urged the Lady of the Forest further into Oakwald’s recesses. He’d scouted a place before the training session and knew exactly where he was taking her. Thank gods they were out of the ravine and back into the forest. She came without question, only making a comment about his Fae male pushiness.

He snorted. “You’ve been spending too much time with Aelin.”

She happily nodded in response.

They reached a clearing, enclosed in a ring of weeping willows. In the middle of the clearing, a heated underground spring bubbled up into a swirling pool, tendrils of steam seeping up from the surface of the water and evaporating into the night. Crystals of ice wrapped around the drooping branches of the willows, clinking softly together as Fenrys pushed his way through. He imagined it was the song of they dryads stuck in the trunks of the trees. Acacia sent her orbs of flame flickered high up into the branches, reflecting off the ice and sending light jumping and sparkling through the clearing. The setting took his breath away, and his heart began to beat faster in his chest. 

As calmly as he could, Fenrys pointed at the pool and said, “Get in.”

Acacia set her hands on her hips and glared up at him. “You’re awful bossy tonight, do you know that?”

Fenrys rolled his eyes and tugged his shirt over his head. His pants quickly followed and when he was in just his underclothes, he stepped into the water. When he was up to his abdomen, he found a spot to sit. He made a gesture as if to say, see how nice this is?

Acacia only narrowed her eyes. “You’re supposed to go into cool water after you train, not hot.”

“Gods above woman just get into the damn water.”

She laughed, thankfully, but hesitated to remove her clothes. Dramatically, Fenrys turned away to give her some privacy. He could feel her eyes on his back, and stubbornly attributed the rising redness on his skin to the heat of the water. He didn’t blush. 

He waited until he felt her sit down before turning back around. His eyes were immediately drawn down to her chest, and he whipped his gaze away before she could notice. 

“What did you want to talk about?”

Right, that was why he dragged her here. Definitely not to see her in her see-through underthings, curly hair clouding around her face, droplets of water clinging to her eyelashes. He stretched his arms out over the rocks he was leaning against, and swore he saw her gaze flit to his chest before focusing on the bubbles in front of her.

He took a deep breath and prepared himself for the argument he knew was coming. “I don’t want you to fight. You’re not even going to pose a threat to the Valg and they will kill you in a heartbeat. I’m not trying to be a ‘bossy Fae male’, I’m just trying to protect you and—”

“Hold on just a second! You are being the exact definition of a bossy Fae male right now. What do you mean, I wouldn’t stand a chance? Did you see me against Dorian today? I could handle everything he threw at me!”

“That was against Dorian, someone who has been training with magic for only a little longer than you have. You’re magic went away when everyone else’s vanished, so I know you’ve only had a short while to get readjusted to it. Against the Valg you will be nothing. You’re immortal, Acacia. There will be plenty of other battles for you to fight. Sit this one out.”

“No.”

He growled in frustration. “Are you even listening to me? I’m trying to help you here.”

She stood up, anger written clearly on her face. “How is that helping me, Wolf? Were you even listening when I told you about Lila? You know why I need to fight! Besides, who knows if there is even going to be another war after this, if Erawan wins? This might be my last chance.”

“That’s exactly the kind of thoughts you should not be thinking before a battle!” He grabbed her arm and yanked her back down into the water, then ran a hand gently up her arm to make up for it. “Listen,” he said, softening his tone. “I understand why you’re upset, and I understand why you feel like you have to fight for Lila. But do you even know what we’re up against?”

She hesitated, some of the blazing heat leaving her stare. “I know Erawan has the Valg, and a large army of them. I’ve heard stories about them, what they are and the terrible things they can do.”  
“What about the ilken? Have you heard of them?” When she shook her head, he continued. “What about the witches and their towers? What about Maeve?” 

She paled, her freckles standing out sharply in contrast. “Maeve is coming? She’s leaving Doranelle?”

He hated the feeling of triumph that began to worm its way into his heart at the fear on her face. “Dorian reported that Maeve was at Morath. When he destroyed it, he left Maeve there with Erawan. So most likely, when we reach the battlefield in a few days it won’t be just Erawan we’re facing, but Maeve too.” He quickly explained what the Ilken were, and the power of destruction the witch towers held. When he finished, Acacia was speechless, staring distractedly into the water. She was silent for a long time.

“I know you told me that to scare me, to prove that I’m not ready. And maybe you’re right, maybe I’m not ready—or will ever be ready—but that doesn’t matter. You and Aelin and Prince Rowan and King Dorian and all those foot soldiers without magic are willing to fight, willing to DIE for this war, because it is our last hope. Why should I be any less willing to do the same? What excuse do I have?”

“You don’t need an excuse, Acacia!” he nearly shouted. “You just need to agree with me—you’re not fighting.”

She narrowed her eyes, and just looked at him, taking in his tense muscles and hands gripping the rocks hard enough to crack them. Her eyes softened. “Why don’t you want me to fight?” She scooted over a tiny bit closer and rested her hand on his thigh. “Why don’t you want me to fight, Fenrys?”

He couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran through him, whether at her hand against his bare thigh, the knowing look in her eyes, or the fact that this was the first time she’d ever said his name, he didn’t know. “I don’t want you to die,” he confessed in a whisper.

“There’s another reason though, isn’t there?” she pressed, leaning closer.

There was. They’d spent all day talking, riding next to each other and sharing stories about their lives. He’d answered her questions about his childhood, being perfectly honest except for the fact that he never once mentioned Connall. All the adventures he went on, the crazy places and people he had met, the wars he’d fought in-he’d made it sound like he had been by himself. He had lied though; throughout it all, Connall had been by his side. He couldn’t figure out why he hadn’t told her about his twin. He trusted her, even after only knowing her for a few days he would trust her with his life. The simple truth was that it was too painful. After Aelin and Maeve, even thinking about his brother felt like a red-hot knife in his chest. So to tell his story to someone, even Acacia… It might be more than he could handle.

He met her gaze, and opened his mouth to spew some bullshit, but then stopped. There was a tingling in his chest, a strange pressure in his mind urging him to tell her the truth. He liked the relationship they had, liked whatever it was that was going on between them. It would hurt to tell her, but with the pain would also come some relief. 

“Connall,” he breathed. 

She tilted her head. “What?”

This was it. There was no going back now. Without realizing what he was doing, he reached for her hand on his leg and gripped it tightly. “I had a twin, a brother.” She gasped. “His name was Connall. He was everything to me.” He took a shaky breath. “Would you like to hear about him?”

She nodded. “Tell me about him, please.”

He told her everything. He told her about growing up with Connall and learning to fight with him. He told her about how they left their home to go see Maeve in Doranelle, and how poorly that had turned out for them, ending with Connall taking the bloodoath while he was off in some foreign land waging war. And when he returned and found out what Maeve was making his brother do… Here he dared to look over and see Acacia’s response. He found a single tear leaking out of the corner of her eye, and she squeezed his leg harder, telling him to continue on. So, he told her more: about how he’d then taken the bloodoath to replace his brother, and the disturbing deeds Maeve had made him do instead. Acacia started crying then, outright sobs ripped from her throat. He didn’t stop, only smoothed a strand of hair behind her ear and kept talking, the story he’d kept locked inside iron bars spilling out for the first time in what felt like forever. When he finally finished telling her about Connall’s death, the only sounds in the forest came from her muffled sobs and the water gurgling up from the earth. 

“I can’t have another person I care about die, Acacia. I just can’t. I don’t think I would survive it.”

She reached over and gently cupped his cheek, stroking his soft stubble with her thumb. “I’m so so sorry, Fenrys.”

“Do you understand now? Will you please stay out of it?”

“I will think about it,” was all she promised. He sighed, but it was more than before.

“Your friends might die, Fenrys. Terrible things happen in war.”

“I know and I’ve accepted that. I’ve seen it firsthand, believe me. But the thought of you out there, helpless, fighting Valg soldiers…” He didn’t finish his sentence. “I don’t mean to insult you, I really don’t. I know how capable you are, but there are other ways you could help us. You’ve already helped us more than anyone could ask for, nobody would blame you if you just returned to the forest after we reach Terrasen’s border.”

“I will think about it,” she repeated. It seemed that was all she would agree to tonight. A weight the size of Connall had been lifted off his chest, but the heavy burden of her going to war still remained.  
“Thank you for listening,” he said, onyx eyes meeting violet. 

She smiled. “Thank you for trusting me enough to share.” 

Fenrys couldn’t bring himself to move, caught up in her soft smile and the smell of strawberries gently wrapping around him, dizzying him like a drug. Maybe she was some kind of witch or sorceress after all, to have this kind of heady effect on him, he thought as he twirled a strand of her hair around his finger. He shouldn’t be able to feel like this.

“Maybe we should go back to the camp,” she suggested, but her eyes seemed to beg him not to leave. Her voice sounded sluggish, like the heat of the water had her in its power.

“Not yet,” was all he said, before he reached over to scoop her up and pull her onto his lap. She let out an indignant noise but settled down with her legs on either side of his thighs, his hands gripping her small hips tightly to prevent her from moving away. Not that she had any inclination to do so, if the way she smoothed her hands along his chest and then looped her arms around his neck implied. He pulled her tighter against him, and nearly groaned with how good her soft body felt pressed up against his own. He grabbed a handful of her hair, tangling his fingers in it and pulled her head back so she was looking up into his face. 

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” she barely got out, the permission all he needed before his lips came crashing down upon hers. Instantly, he was lost. The only thing in the world he cared about was kissing her. One of her hands slid up and grabbed his hair, holding his head in place as she kissed him back. She nipped lightly at his lips, and he bit right back, taking control and forcing her mouth to open to his. He explored the inside of her mouth, tangling his tongue with hers. He pulled roughly at her hair, used his other hand to grind her hips down on his. She quickly picked up the rhythm, setting a frantic pace as she moved her hips against his, riding the hard outline of his cock. They barely broke for air, couldn’t get enough of each other. He’d never had a kiss this frantic, this passionate. He’d been waiting centuries for someone to kiss him like this, and there was no way he was going to lose this. He growled and moved one hand up to cup her breast. The movement seemed to break her from her spell, and she wrenched her head back, placing her hands firmly on his chest to put some space between them.

“Wait,” she panted, lips a brilliant shade of red. “I have to tell you something.”

“It can wait til later,” he growled, before pulling her head back down to catch her lips between his. He cupped the back of her neck and kissed her deeply, reverently, setting a different pace as she clung to him helplessly. He was insistent, and shivers raced down his spine as she let out a soft moan. Time turned into a blur around him, whirling past unheeded as the only thing that mattered in the entire world was in his arms. When he finally broke the kiss, he traced her lips softly with one finger, daring to push slightly into her mouth. She answered by sucking softly on the tip of his finger, swirling lightly with her tongue. A pang of desire hit him deep in the gut, and he let out a groan. “I need to be inside you right now,” he snarled.

She let go of his finger, and ran her hands through his hair, pushing the damp strands away from face. Gods she was so beautiful. The flaming orbs lent her an inhuman glow, highlighting her pointed ears and setting her hair on fire. She smiled wickedly at him. “I think it’s time for bed.”

He growled, nipped at her neck sharply. “What?”

“I’m tired,” she yawned playfully, stretching her arms behind her head. The movement drew his attention to her breasts, and he growled again. 

“You’re tired,” he repeated, in disbelief. 

“Mmhm. Will you walk me back to my tent?”

“You’re messing with me.” But when he looked into her eyes, and saw a quick flash of fear or uncertainty, he relented. He didn’t know what she was afraid of, but if they had to take their time and continue carefully, then he would. Even if he would hate every second of the waiting. “Yes, I will walk you back.”

She leaned forward and quickly kissed his cheek in thanks. This was new, but something he wouldn’t mind getting used to. 

He let her lead him out of the pool, Acacia drying them off with a thought once they were out. They walked silently back, Fenrys debating about whether or not he should grab her hand. She ended his silent debate by slipping her small hand into his as they exited the willow ring. To take his mind off the racing thoughts in his head, he asked, “Where are you sleeping tonight?”

“Gavriel found me a tent and helped me set it up earlier.”

“No woods tonight?”

She smiled. “No. Believe it or not, I actually find that I prefer the softness of a sleeping roll over tree bark behind my head.”

“No surprise there,” he muttered under his breath.

When they reached her tent, Fenrys had to stop himself from coming in with her and finishing what they started. She stopped him with another kiss on the cheek and disappeared into her tent.  
He ran his hands roughly through his hair in frustration, and went to go find his own tent for the night. He was in such deep shit.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Acacia's POV. Rowan rides with Acacia and gives her some devastating news about her home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just made up a whole bunch of stuff about the city Rowan and Lorcan destroyed, SJM didn't mention much else about it in her books. I couldn't find the name of the city or where it was located in regards to Doranelle, so I just made that information up. I'm thinking the next chapter will probably be told from Acacia's POV as well because I have more character building I want to do with her and backstory I want to write. Let me know if I should add or change anything with the story to make it better:)

***  
Acacia woke with a jerk, a cold sweat covering her from head to toe. She reached up to rub her eyes, and her hands came away damp with tears. A nightmare. She hadn’t had one of those in a long long time. She couldn’t remember what she dreamt of, but reminiscent screams still clattered around in her head. Not a good omen to have, two days before battle. She sat up with a sigh and hugged her knees, burying her head in her arms. 

Last night had been amazing. Beyond amazing, in fact. Incredible. The way Fenrys had kissed her…she’d never felt anything like it before. He’d been so passionate and intense he took her breath away. She’d been beyond thankful that he’d listened respectfully when she asked him to stop. But she couldn’t let it happen again, not without telling him the truth about the connection between them. What would he think if she let things go too far without telling him they were mates? Besides, she wanted their first time to be something extraordinary, a night both of them would remember. A quick fuck in the woods was not what she intended. She hadn’t had much of a chance to be romantic in life and felt a little out of her comfort zone, but maybe after the war she could do something special for him. Create a night so romantic neither one of them would forget it for the rest of their lives.

If he even planned on sticking around her for that long, she reminded herself. Right now, she had no idea where his head was. Maybe to him, she was just some rebound trick to get over Connall or the torture he’d been through with Aelin. Her heart had broken into what felt like a million fragments when he’d told her the story last night. He’d recounted it all in such a matter of fact manner he could have been telling her the weather for the next week. The things Maeve had done to him and Aelin…Maeve had made his twin kill himself right in front of him. How could someone ever come back from that? 

She’d talked everything over with Elide last night, who had been dutifully waiting in Acacia’s tent when she returned from kissing Fenrys goodnight. Elide had been hopeful, said that Fenrys’ mood had cheered up considerably ever since she’d joined them. But as good as it had felt to hear that, it only managed to soothe a small fraction of the monsoon wreaking havoc on her brain right now. She wanted to sort all of this out with Fenrys, have a nice long talk regarding the direction of their new relationship, but now didn’t seem to be the time. She didn’t want him to run away at the idea of commitment to her. After all, they’d only kissed. But gods, she wanted a marriage proposal right this second.

The sounds of the camp waking up filtered through her tent and Elide stirred beside her. She had elected to just spend the night in Acacia’s tent after the girls had stayed up for hours talking.  
“You look like you have a lot on your mind this morning.”

Acacia groaned. “Do I ever. What do I do, Elide?”

“You stick with the plan we came up with last night. Wait to see how things are between you this morning and judge his reaction to see if he’s freaking out. If he is, give him some space. If he seems fine, just keep doing what you have been doing: building your relationship. The fact that he told you about Connall and Maeve last night is a positive step.”

“But what if he completely ignores me? I don’t know what I’d do, Elide!”

“Then you come find me and we’ll make a new plan,” Elide soothed, starting to roll up her bed roll.

“You’re right, you’re right.” Acacia buried her face in her pillow. “I’m just so nervous, I feel like a little girl with a crush. What would I do without you Elide?”

Elide laughed. “You’d probably explode under all the stress. Now come on, start packing up.”

They quickly put everything together and went to find some breakfast. Before they found any food, they encountered an extremely grumpy Lorcan pouring water over the remains of a fire. Elide shot Acacia a guilty look. “I’ll find you later,” she whispered, giving her hand a squeeze before approaching Lorcan and giving him a gentle hug from behind. 

Acacia went to get her horse ready, and heard footsteps coming from behind her. She tried not to acknowledge how her heart dropped in her chest when she recognized Aelin’s voice instead of Fenrys. 

“What did you do, piss in his sheets last night?”

“Who?” Acacia stuttered. Was Fenrys upset this morning?

Aelin snorted and gestured towards Lorcan. “That crabby bastard.”

“Oh, him.” She let out an internal sigh of relief. “Elide spent the night with me last night instead of him.”

“Yeah, that will do it. I swear, she’s the only reason he bothers to live.” 

“Are they mates?”

Aelin shrugged. “Who knows. That’s their business. With the way he mopes after her all the time, I’d say yes but…” she trailed off. 

“But he’s immortal though.”

“Yeah. He is.” Her voice softened, and the queen looked over to where the couple stood. Lorcan was helping Elide up onto her horse, being extra careful of her injured ankle. Aelin brought her attention back to Acacia. “You’re riding with us today. Rowan has some questions for you.”

For some reason, Acacia felt a tingle of nerves run down her spine. “What kind of questions?”

“Who the hell knows. Come on.” 

Aelin led the way to the front of the line, where Prince Rowan and Dorian were already waiting. The Fae male and the king both greeted them, and Rowan nudged his horse closer to Acacia’s. “May I ride with you today, Lady?”

“Of course,” she murmured, wondering what this was all about. She strained her neck backwards, trying to spot Fenrys’ mane of golden curls but couldn’t find him. Had he decided last night was a mistake? Was he just going to avoid her until they arrived in Terrasen? Had he asked Rowan to talk to her today so he would have an excuse to stay away? Her palms began to sweat and shake slightly with nerves. She had to find him, had to go looking for him right now. She had to explain, tell him everything, tell him why they had to stick together, tell him—

“Gavriel asked Fenrys to assist him down the lines today. Several men started a fight last night.” There was a stern look of disapproval on Rowan’s face, as if he didn’t condone the petty squabbling of mortal men. “Tensions always run higher the closer one gets to battle. Men have to do something with their fear.”

Acacia didn’t know what to say to that, so she just remained silent. Relief flickered through her; Fenrys wasn’t avoiding her after all. She hadn’t had many chances to speak to Prince Rowan, and so she was still unsure what to make of him. She’d dragged his history out of Elide, and although Fenrys had sounded aggravated by the male, she knew he held him in high regards. He was dangerous, just looking at him could tell her that. The soldiers often grew quiet when he passed by their tents. Yet with Aelin, his demeanor changed. He looked at her like she was his entire world and he would destroy anything that tried to harm her. Acacia had witnessed their tempers clash multiple times during the long marches, but she was still unsure as to who she’d bet money on yet. She thought she leaned towards the queen, though.

They rode in silence for a few minutes, Acacia searching for an excuse to ride ahead, when Rowan spoke again. “How is your training coming along with Fenrys?”

“It is going well,” Acacia said. She didn’t know what he wanted from her and wished he would just get to the point. “Dorian taught me how to shield last night.”

He smiled. “Good. That’s important. You should ask Aelin about how she learned to shield.” 

Ahead of them, the queen flipped him a vulgar gesture without turning around, her Fae ears picking up their conversation easily.

Rowan laughed softly. “We had a…difficult…time when we first met,” he explained. “Neither of us wanted to be stuck with the other, and we had to learn how to get along.”

“You trained her?”

“Yes. Maeve commanded me to train her, so she could be granted access to Doranelle.”

“Wait. Maeve told you to train her?”

“Yes. This was before Maeve knew how much Aelin despised her and wanted to burn her to a crisp. I doubt she would have given me the same command if she could have seen into the future.”

Acacia’s head reeled as she took in this new information. There was too much history among the group to keep everything straight. 

“Have you ever met Maeve?” Rowan asked.

“No,” Acacia shook her head. For some reason, she felt like he already knew the answers to the questions he asked.

“Did you live in Doranelle? You are full Fae.”

“I am, but no, I actually never stepped foot in Doranelle. I always heard of its beauty, and I wanted to go ever since I was a girl.”

“Some consider it to be the most beautiful city in the world,” he said quietly. From his tone, she assumed he did not agree. “Why did you never go if you wanted to see it so badly? They would have let you in.”

Acacia hesitated, a sinking feeling creeping up into her gut. She could see clearly now the end of this line of questioning and would do everything in her power to direct it somewhere else. “It was just never the right time to go, I guess.” She shrugged. “Did you grow up there?”

“Yes, I did. It was pleasant enough, I suppose. What about you? Where did you grow up?”

He knew. He had to know. How did he know? Why was he asking her this, why was it so important? She’d left, years ago. Any connection she had with her home was gone. She played dumb. “I’m from a small, insignificant city across the narrow sea from Doranelle. You wouldn’t have heard of it.”

“Oh, really? I’ve seen plenty of the world. What’s it called?” His green eyes pinned her in place. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest. 

“You wouldn’t have heard of it,” she repeated firmly.

He studied her. “You’re from Sollemere, aren’t you?”

The world fell out from underneath her. She yanked her horse to a stop. “No. Where’s that?” she lied.

He grabbed her reins and walked her horse out of the way of the marching army. “Don’t lie to me,” he said, with surprising kindness. “I recognized your eyes from the first time I saw you. I’ve been all over, and I’ve only seen eyes that color in one region.”

She was going to fall off her horse. “I…”

“It’s okay, I promise. I just want to know.”

Her head was spinning, her breath coming in quick shallow bursts. This was it. 200 years and her past finally caught up with her. She was ruined. They would want nothing to do with her now. He’d take her far enough away into the woods, out of hearing range and then chop off her head, maybe burn her body so the animals wouldn’t get it if he was feeling nice. They’d gotten the information they needed out of her, and now they were going to kill her.

“Please don’t kill me,” she sobbed. “I promise I’m nothing like them.” That’s why she had run away in the first place, to get away from it all: the murders, the thieves, the liars, the rapists, the bullies, the terrorists. 

“I’m not going to kill you. I have no reason to.”

He was lying. “Then why did you ask?”

He just stared at her, not a hint of emotion leaking through his impenetrable outer shell. “Because I have a confession.”

“What?” He wasn’t going to kill her?

“You need to calm down before I tell you.”

Hand trembling, Acacia dragged her hands through her hair. Confession? What could he possibly have to say? She drew in deep rattling breaths, counting in and out as she did. Inhale, one two three. Exhale one two three. When her hands stopped shaking, she turned to face him. “What is it?”

“You claim I wouldn’t have heard about your home, that it was small and insignificant. But you’re wrong. Maeve took note of all the terrible things going on in your city and sent me as an emissary to warn them: either stop their ways or face the consequences. Your people spat in my face, but I left and gave them time to change. They didn’t.”

“When was this?” she interrupted. 

He frowned. “At least 100 years ago, maybe more. I don’t remember.”

“I had no idea, this must have been after I left. Wait,” she demanded, feeling the blood slowly draining from her face. “You said consequences. What were the consequences?” She knew without a shred of doubt that her people wouldn’t have heeded the warning, were too caught up in the seductive ways of mass destruction. 

Rowan shifted his hands, as if he were about to reach out and touch her but then thought better of it. His face a cold mask, he looked her straight in the eye as he said plainly, “Maeve sent Lorcan and I to destroy the city. Nothing remains.”

That wasn’t right, she must have heard wrong. Cities weren’t just…destroyed. 

“I’m sorry, what?” Even as she asked again, she let the truth inch its way under her skin. The power of the two males combined would be a force unlike anything her city had ever seen.

Rowan just stared at her. “I’m sorry. Everything is gone. There’s nothing—nobody—left.”

Acacia’s breath hitched in her throat. The ground rushed up to meet her, and only Rowan’s strong hand on her shoulder kept her from tumbling to the earth. That hand—the one that had levelled her city, destroyed her old home, killed her family… OH GODS her family. They were dead. Her family was dead dead dead, probably blown to bits, nothing but pieces of ash and dust floating around the ruins, left to drift aimlessly over the sea. Her family, oh gods. Noises she had never made before came clawing up out of her, her throat clenched tight, unable to let air through. She was choking, panting, sweating, dizzy, probably like her family had been right before they’d drawn their last breaths, and she couldn’t take it couldn’t handle it oh gods what was happening what had he done what had he done and she had left she had abandoned them she should have died with them oh gods she was all alone and –

“Rowan? Acacia? What happened, is everything okay?” Fenrys galloped up to him, Lorcan and Elide right behind them. “Acacia?” He sounded so concerned, but he must have known, too, Rowan had probably told him. She couldn’t deal with him right now, couldn’t face any more hurt today. And Lorcan… With a flash of light, she shifted and flew away.

***  
She had to get away, far far away. That was the single thought that flew through her head and she held onto it like an anchor as she raced and flitted through the trees, trying to put as much distance as she could between herself and the murderers, the weapons of mass destruction that had obliterated her home. Her sisters were dead. Her sisters were dead. She zoomed through the forest, narrowly avoiding trees as her animal senses took over. Her tiny wings carried her as fast as they could, and when she felt like enough distance separated her from the others, she shifted back to her Fae form and collapsed on the ground. She had no energy to cry or moan or wail or scream, like her heart ached for her to do. Instead, she laid limply on the ground, curled up into a tight ball, and silently mourned the life she had despised so much she had run away from and never looked back. She should be dead with her sisters. 

Time passed, and eventually she heard her name being called from somewhere off in the distance. The sound washed over her, but she ignored it. The calls sounded closer and closer, but she didn’t have the energy to move. A distant part of her mind recognized the pitch of Elide’s voice and the trampling of green things under a horse’s hooves. 

There was a soft gasp, and then tender hands caressing her face, her arms, her back. “Acacia, can you open your eyes?”

With a monumental effort, Acacia cracked open her eyes to see Elide’s face inches before her own, worry and despair written all over her face. Snaking an arm around her back, Elide eased her up into a sitting position, then wrapped her arms tightly around her, enveloping Acacia in her arms. 

“I’m so sorry,” was all she said. 

The two sat like that for some time, Elide rocking them slowly back and forth, occasionally murmuring soothing words into Acacia’s hair. When she felt like she had control over her body again, Acacia pulled away and stared at Elide through the tears still clouding her vision.

“Why am I so sad?” she finally whispered.

“Because they were your family,” came the simple reply. 

“They were terrible awful people, Elide. Even my sisters. Once, when Zinnia was 22, some boys were hanging around our house and throwing stones at a pregnant cat. They wouldn’t leave when she threatened, so Zinnia went out, held them to the ground with her magic and started pelting them with rocks. She hit one in the head so hard he blacked out, and she broke bones on the other two.” Acacia let out a soul wracking sob, memories inundating her mind in a sickening wave. “And another time, a neighbor stole some money from my father. So he hunted down his wife, slit her wrists and hung her from our neighbor’s tree, barely breathing. These people were my family, Elide. I’m related to them. And those are just examples of everyday occurrences for them, not even the worst of what they’re capable of. Everyone else in my city was just as bad, some thousands of times worse. So please help me understand why I feel so bad about them all being gone. I should feel relief, but instead I wish…” her voice cracked, and she finished her sentence in a broken hiss. “I wish I were dead instead of abandoning them like I did.”

“You’re allowed to grieve, Acacia. You’re allowed to feel all of those feelings, and every single one of them is valid. You may wish you were dead now, but I can promise you that you won’t feel that way forever. All of us are so glad we found you. I’m glad I found you, that I found a friend.”

Acacia let out a few whimpering sobs, so Elide continued. “I think I understand what you’re feeling. My uncle did this to me.” She gestured to her ankle, and Acacia’s eyes widened. “Yet for the longest time, all I wanted was for him to love me, to treat me like family, even after all the terrible things he did. I overcame those feelings, got over hating myself for having thoughts I couldn’t control. It took time, but I did it.”

“I’m sorry about your uncle. I had no idea.”

Elide smiled placidly. “It’s alright. The past is the past now.”

Mulling over what Elide said helped Acacia attempt to calm down. She knew the shock of losing her family would haunt with her for a while, but now she was able to fully assess what happened in a clearer light. Rowan and Lorcan had destroyed Sollemere, killed her family on Maeve’s orders. Rowan said he gave them a chance to change their behaviors, but his warning had been ignored. So the citizens of Sollemere paid the price, with Maeve’s justice delivered by two of her pets. Acacia blew out a breath. She had run away. She had seen the skulking evil that consumed her people, even her own family members, and ran away. Her family might as well have been dead the last 200 years with how little she thought about them. Now it was just different, knowing that they were actually gone. Her spine straightened, and Acacia staggered to her feet, dragging Elide with her. Maeve had killed her family. For that, the bitch would pay.

As Acacia walked back to the group, she clasped Elide’s hand tightly as a reminder. She might have lost her family, but she had gained something infinitely more precious. A friend.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Acacia's POV

***  
The sun sensed Acacia’s sorrow and sank faster than it had the previous days. Or maybe she had just tunneled so deep inside her consciousness that she was unable to heed the passing of time, too busy constructing various scenarios of Maeve’s execution to take note of the outside world. She barely recognized Elide who rode beside her, offering silent support and companionship. Her friend. Elide had scared off anyone who tried to get too close, giving Acacia the gift of time and space to grieve and sort through her thoughts in peace. Rowan and Lorcan wisely stayed far away, even though at the end of the ride she had determined her burning anger was not directed at them. Fenrys had tried to approach but Elide sent him off with a handful of gentle words. He’d hesitated, giving Elide a sorrowful look before turning his horse away. 

Yet, when she dismounted for the day, he was the first person she sought out. Leaving Elide with a soft, grateful kiss on the cheek, she hunted down her mate. He was brushing down his horse, and looked up, startled, when she stomped up to him.

“Let’s go train.”

“Acacia, I’m so sorry.” He stretched out a hand, intending to brush her cheek. “Rowan told me, after you left, and—”

“Let’s go train,” she repeated, turning on her heel and making towards an open clearing she remembered being roughly a quarter mile away from where they had stopped for the day. He followed quickly in her steps, his long strides easily bringing him to her side.

“Do you think that’s a good idea? You just received devastating news, I understand if you want a day off.”

She snarled at him, a low and vicious sound that had only came out of her mouth one time before. “You listen to me. I know exactly what I want and that is to train so I can rip the heart out of the motherfucking bitch who killed my family. What I do not need right now is you coddling me or telling me to go hole up in my tent. You should understand more than anybody else what I’m feeling right now, so help me gods damn it.”

He nodded once, stone faced. “You’re right. Let’s go.”

When they reached the clearing, she immediately tied back her hair and adjusted her stance. “Teach me how to kill,” she demanded.

And instead of looking at her with pity or concern, Fenrys gave her an utterly wicked grin and whipped out a set of knives. “That’s the most beautiful sentence I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth,” he said. And then he lunged.

***

He completely kicked her ass, and she loved it. Every time he knocked her down, she jumped right back up with a growl and tried again. And again. And again. Until she was spending less time on the ground, and more time with her knives and magic pressed to Fenrys’ throat, against his chest, slamming the weapons out of his hands. Even if her chances against Maeve were still looking bleak, they were brighter than they had been before. 

Something dark leaked out of her during their training, a fierce and hungry force she’d never experienced before. It pushed her harder, drove her farther than she could have gone without it. She imagined it was the ghost of her sisters, whispering their fury into her soul and their wrath down the bones of her spine, merging their bodies with hers as they demanded more. More aggression, more passion, more anger. With every breath she took in, they exhaled within her their burning desire for revenge. So she held onto it, and locked the feeling in a jar inside her heart, keeping it safe and waiting patiently until she faced Maeve to truly unleash the depths of its destruction. 

If Fenrys noticed a difference in her behavior he made no comment, only offering a hand when she fell and pushing her harder when she faltered. Every time their magic clashed, a piece of their souls intertwined and together they told the story of their losses, and the half-formed hopes for the future. She understood him then and knew every fragment of his grief as well as she knew her own. The look in his eyes as he came at her again and again told her he was feeling hers the same way.

When they slowly came to a stop, Acacia was breathing heavily and swaying on her feet. Fenrys sheathed his sword and came closer to put an arm around her side, steadying her.

“Well done,” was all he said.

“Thank you,” she replied, hoping he understood that she meant for more than just the training.

He nodded, and they started the walk back to camp, his arm still firmly around her waist. Acacia inhaled his scent, the closeness of him, and let his presence calm her. They walked slowly, taking their time, the tranquil quiet that only accompanies softly falling snow surrounding them. 

Fenrys looked at her out of the corner of his eye, a small smirk growing on his face. She wanted to capture the look and hold onto it forever. “So,” he said, “a hummingbird, huh?”

She laughed. “Yes. Not nearly as ferocious or terrifying as a wolf, is it?”

“I don’t know…If I made you angry would you peck my eyes out?”

“Hmmmm… that sounds so tempting right now,” she grinned, bumping her hip gently into his.

“It suits you,” he said, more seriously. “It really does. I love it.”

“Thank you,” she murmured. “It isn’t useful for fighting, but it can get me places quickly and I like the feeling of being small and slipping through the world unnoticed.”

“You like hiding from the world,” he observed. 

Acacia shrugged, feeling defensive. “Do you blame me? You know my history now. From everything I’ve seen, there isn’t much good left in the world to bother looking for.”

“Not even in the forest? You couldn’t have stayed in Oakwald for so long without a reason.”

She sighed. “Somedays I feel like the only good left in the world is in this forest.” She reached out a hand and lightly traced her fingers down some pine needles dusted with snow. She held up her hand to the sky, admiring the way the snow glittered and danced in the moonlight. “I could never leave it,” she said, mostly to herself.

“Never?” There was an uncertain tone to his voice that drew her back to reality.

“Where else would I go? I always just assumed I would die here.”

“There would be a place for you in Terrasen,” he said quietly, refusing to meet her eyes when she turned to look at him.

Her heart began to beat quicker, and for some reason she felt like she was wading through quicksand. Were they really talking about the future? Was he thinking about what would happen to them after the war?

She tried to keep her tone even and unaffected as she said, “In Terrasen? What would Aelin think about me moving into her home?”

He stopped walking and leaned his back against a tree with his arms crossed over his chest, face serious. “She wouldn’t mind. In fact, she would most likely extend the offer herself. Terrasen is a safe haven, a home for those who have nowhere left to turn.”

Is that what I am, she thought, someone with nowhere else to go? Instead of voicing her thoughts, she focused on the first part of what he said. “You seem to be quite sure of your queen,” she mused, crossing her own arms, and mirroring his posture. “Why do you have such strong feelings for her?”

She wanted to take the words back as soon as they left her mouth, regretting how jealous they sounded. She was his queen for crying out loud, had brought him back from the brink of death. The things they had endured together made her shudder just to think about them. It’s not like Acacia thought Fenrys was harboring feelings for Aelin, but… the more she thought about it, the more uncertain she became. Aelin was wild, bold, daring. She had a witty comeback for everything, knew how to work a room and was breathtakingly beautiful. 

Fenrys studied her carefully before replying, and it took every ounce of her strength not to duck her head or look away from his stare. “Aelin has earned every single bit of my respect for her. There is nothing I wouldn’t do to protect her, and I have never been prouder to serve someone as I am her. Maeve made me serve, Aelin makes me want to serve. She would give up her life to save her kingdom, almost did. I’ve never seen that kind of loyalty or dedication before.”

Acacia kicked some snow around with her boots. “She is something special.”

Fenrys nodded. “She certainly is,” he agreed quietly. 

“We should get back,” Acacia said, still disquieted and trying to sort out her emotions.

Fenrys didn’t move. “After this, we only have one more night before battle.”

“What about it?”

He shrugged, the pale light from the moon illuminating his golden curls. He looked like an angel. Her angel. “I’d like to enjoy the peace while I still can.”

“You act like we might not come out of this alive,” she accused.

His eyes darkened. “Some people act like they’re immortal before battle, like swords and arrows can’t kill them. It helps get them through, takes the edge off the fear. That’s never worked for me; I’ve lost too many friends to think that way. But if I acknowledge that this might be it for me, if I enjoy moments like these while I’m in them, it makes the uncertain times in battle seem worth it.”

The trees seemed to close in on her, taking up breathing space. “You can’t die on me,” she gasped, the fear of losing him hitting her fully in the face for the first time. They were going to war, and he might not make it out alive. She might not make it out alive. “Promise me you won’t die.”

He pushed off the tree and stalked towards her. “Weren’t we just having this reverse conversation last night?”

“It’s all just hitting me now,” she confessed in a whisper, fighting the tears that were beginning to well up in the corners of her eyes. 

Fenrys cupped her cheek, brushing a tear away with his thumb. He leaned down and rested his forehead against hers. For a moment, they just stood there, breathing each other in. Tell him, tell him now. Tell him before it’s too late. But she was a coward, too afraid to risk what they had now for what they could possibly have in the future. So she kept her secret buried inside, and simply slipped her hands inside his shirt to rest them on his abdomen. 

He grunted at the bite of her cold hands against him, but she was too focused on the feel of his warm skin to care, dragging her fingers down the grooves of his muscled stomach, marveling at how toned he felt beneath her hands. 

“Give a guy a warning first,” he teased, before shoving his own hands beneath the hem of her shirt. She yelped as his frigid hands gripped her waist and tried to wiggle out of his grasp. But he held on tight and dragged her closer until they were pressed up against each other.

Her breath caught in her throat, heart racing as his eyes turned impossibly darker. “You left me in a bad spot last night,” he breathed into her ear, and then whipped her around to pin her with his body against the tree he had been leaning against moments before. “I think you owe me an apology.”

“Oh, really?” Acacia panted, heart caught in her throat. “How can I make it up to you?”

Fenrys nipped her earlobe, then lazily sucked at a spot on her neck. She arched under his touch. “That’s a dangerous question to ask,” he said, and she could hear the smirk in his voice. “Are you sure you want to know the answer to that?” He bit down hard, then flicked his tongue over the stinging spot. Acacia could barely breathe at the sensation, and only let out a soft moan. 

With one hand, Fenrys grabbed both of her wrists and pinned them above her head. The other hand moved slowly from her neck down to her waist, leaving a burning trail behind it. He kicked her feet apart and pressed in close to the space he’d created between her legs. She had to bite back another moan when she realized the new position enabled her to feel every inch of his hard length pressed against her core. She tried to move her body, to grind up against him, but he shoved her back, pressing her even harder against the tree.

“You don’t get to move,” he growled, gripping her wrists tightly with his hand. The other one had settled on her waist. “I’m in control here, do you understand?”

All she could do was nod. Right here, right now, he could do whatever the hell he wanted to her. She was all his.

“Good,” he purred. “I used all of last night to think of exactly how I was going to pay you back, not only for making me sleep with Lorcan, but for making me go back to my tent with a raging hard on and no way to relieve myself with Gavriel right next to me.” The hand on her hip slid lower to her butt and he tightly gripped her bottom. “So, what do you say? Are you going to let me pay you back?” He leaned in closer, his mouth inches away from hers.

She recognized the question for what it was: his way of asking her for permission to continue, to take control. “Yes,” she gasped, tilting her head closer to his. “Yes, please.”

He bent his head and ran his tongue along the outline of her lips. “Begging already, and I haven’t even started yet.” He ground his hips against hers, and she let out a whimper. “This is going to be fun, baby girl.” Fenrys lifted his hand from her bottom back to her neck. He loosely held her throat, said, “Tell me if you need to stop,” and brought his lips down on hers. He kissed her just as passionately as he had last night, but this time it was rougher, more demanding. He refused to let her kiss back, and just ravaged her mouth, sucking on her tongue and biting her lips. His hand pressed down hard on her throat before moving down to her chest. Without stopping the kiss, he ripped open her jacket and shoved up her shirt, exposing her breasts to the cold night air. His fingers found a nipple and pinched it hard. When she let out a gasp against his mouth, he did it again, adding a twist to the end. Still moving his lips on hers, he began massaging her breast, letting go of her hands where he had them pinned. The pleasure was almost painful, and Acacia writhed against him. 

When he finally pulled back from her mouth they were both panting, Fenrys’ eyes glazed and dark. She trembled at the hunger she saw in them and reached her arms out to wrap around his neck. He snapped at her with his teeth, letting go of her breasts to slam her hands back against the tree. “You don’t touch,” he said. Dazed, she could only nod, keeping her hands up where he put them. When he was certain she was going to obey, he lowered his head to her breasts and slowly dragged his tongue around her nipple. At the touch, Acacia felt the heat pooling between her legs and wanted more than anything to grab his head and keep it where it was. He must have read her mind, because he remained where he was, switching from one breast to the other, but never going further than to trace lazy circles, occasionally giving the side of her breast a light nip. 

When she couldn’t take it any longer, felt so tense she would break apart, she let out a desperate, “Please, Fenrys.” He glanced up at her and gave her a teasing smile, before dropping his head back down and sucking her nipple into his mouth, dragging his tongue over the tip. She swore she was seeing stars and could only arch her chest in response. It took every single ounce of her control not to rip her fingers through his hair. She felt his hand glide lower down her back, his palm rough against her bare skin. Her breathing came in quicker bursts as she realized where his hand was going, and her legs widened on their own accord. He laughed quietly and grazed his fingers devastatingly slowly over the hot dripping space between her legs. A jolt of electricity ran up her spine. 

“You like that?” he asked, voice low and rough. Acacia could only nod in response, incapable of speech at the moment. He brought his fingers back, moving them back and forth against the fabric of her pants. 

She needed them inside of her, right now. “Please…” She didn’t know how to ask, how to tell him what she wanted, too embarrassed to ask for it anyway. 

He smiled at her, and slowly his hand crept inside her pants. When he finally brushed her clit and dragged a finger through her wet folds, they both let out noises of pleasure. “Is this where you wanted me?” he murmured, one finger tracing a circle around her clit but never fully making contact. 

“Yes,” she hissed. 

“Good. This is where I want to be, too.” Without any warning, he applied the pressure she so desperately needed. He knew how to handle a woman’s body, she had to give him credit for that. She tried not to think about how he had learned. He scraped his teeth over her neck, and her body melted. She wasn’t sure what to focus on: his fingers, the feel of him pressed against her, or the way he was biting her neck. He made the decision for her when he moved his hand back and slid a finger inside of her. She couldn’t contain the small yelp that escaped, and her whole body thrilled at the thought of him finally inside her, where he belonged. 

Fenrys kept his finger still and moved his free hand to grip her chin and force her head up to look him in the eyes. When their eyes met, he slowly dragged his finger out before pushing it back in. “You feel exactly how I imagined you’d feel,” he growled, before picking up the pace. His hand still held her head in place, and all she could do was look into his eyes as he plunged his finger in and out. When he added a second, she thought her knees would collapse. He stretched her, curling the tips until they hit the spot inside her that sent sparks blazing through her veins. 

“If you’re making this much noise now with only my fingers, imagine what sounds I’ll force out of you with my cock.” 

She whimpered, eyes glazed, and begged, “Please fuck me.” She could feel her release building, rising up inside her stomach, and the thought of him filling her with his cock made her legs twitch. Right now, she didn’t care about her previous intentions of waiting until he knew they were mates before having sex. She wanted him now, whether he knew or not.

But instead, he slowed down his movements, pulling his fingers out completely before shoving them back in and just holding them there. “No,” he said, “I’m not going to fuck you tonight.”

“What?” she gasped, head still in the clouds. “Why not?”

“You just found out your family died, Acacia. I don’t want you to do something you might regret later.” 

She ground down on his fingers. “Does it feel like I’m going to regret this later?” she hissed. 

He gently brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes and removed his fingers. He pulled her shirt down to cover her and looked at her with sorrow lining his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “But we have all the time in the world for this.”

Rage suddenly ignited in her chest, like an explosive shattering her clarity. “No,” she snapped, shoving him away from her as hard as she could. “We don’t.” 

With a swift flash of light, she shifted into her hummingbird form and raced back toward her tent. Gods, she was so stupid. So terribly incredibly stupid. That’s what she got for acting without thinking, imagining that he could ever want her after everything he’d been through. He was probably thinking about Maeve the whole time he was touching her, probably wishing they’d never started down this path in the first place. She was such an idiot.

When she reached her tent, relief flooded through her when she saw Elide wasn’t waiting for her. Allowing her tears to fall, Acacia curled up on her bedroll and willed the image of Fenrys’ face, tight with desire, out of her mind. He didn’t want her, and never would. The sooner she could accept that, the better. Squeezing her eyes shut, Acacia let out a single sob and began the process of letting him go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh y'all, night shift messes me up. I have a good idea of where I want this story to go from here. I really think that with the right person, Fenrys would be very thoughtful and considerate and not a complete asshole, so that's how I tried to right him in this chapter. IDK what the hell I'm doing tho so


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenrys' POV, more thoughts about what's going on inside his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellloooo, so the beginning of this chapter talks about what Fenrys' is feeling and it shouldn't be very triggering for anyone but just in case you're sensitive to descriptions of depression you can just skip ahead to the second ◊◊◊

◊◊◊  
Pain splintered through his knuckles and laced up his arm when his fist connected with the trunk of the tree, but he could barely feel it. Fenrys wound up again, hoping this time maybe a bone would shatter. He deserved the pain, deserved to feel as terrible as he’d made Acacia feel tonight. Just before his fist met the tree again, a voice made him whip around.

“What did that poor tree do to you? Wood nymph break your heart?”

Aelin leaned against a pine behind him, casually cleaning her nails with a knife. 

He stared at her, panting, and tried to reel in the rage that formed a mask over his mouth and a gag in his throat, shrouding his brain from any logical thoughts or actions.

His queen frowned at her fingernail and wiped some dirt off the tip of the blade. 

“How long have you been standing there?” he managed to croak out.

“Long enough to see you almost break your hand.” She held out her hand, motioning for him to come closer.

He gave the tree one last glare and shuffled over to where she stood. Looking up into his face, she blinked three times, the question written on her face. He responded. No. Aelin gently picked up his swollen hand from where it dangled at his side and inspected his injuries. 

“If you really wanted to pick a fight, you should have punched Lorcan in the balls,” she teased, frowning at a patch of skin that was already bruising. “He would have been more than happy to beat your sorry ass.”

“Next time I’ll take that into consideration.” He didn’t even flinch as she brushed over an open cut with a finger, then lightly dropped his hand.

“I’m no healer, but it doesn’t look like you broke anything. You could go see Yrene in the morning,” she suggested half-heartedly, probably assuming he’d turn down the idea. He did just that with a quick shake of his head, spinning away from her to pace several steps back and forth. 

Aelin resumed cleaning her fingernails with the dagger. “So…you and the Lady of the Forest, huh? What’s going on there?”

He spat on the ground in frustration and kept pacing.

“She’s kinda cute, I have to admit,” Aelin continued. “Not sure how she lived naked in the forest for 200 years, but if that’s your kink…” she shrugged. “How’s training with her going.”

“Fine.”

“Oh, fine? Is that why you’re so worked up? Because its ‘fine’?” 

He growled at her and she snapped right back, louder. “You have to let it out Fenrys, so let it out at me. What’s going on? I can tell you’re upset.”

She was right, he had to work through this or it was just going to sit on his chest and join the steadily growing pile of terrible things he didn’t want to talk or even think about, and Acacia didn’t deserve to join that pile. He sucked in a deep breath and tried to focus on the solid feel of the ground beneath his feet, the slight flurry of snowflakes kissing his skin and brushing away his burning inner turmoil flake by flake. 

“I have…feelings…for her,” he admitted, refusing to make eye contact with his queen. Confessing those words out loud opened a gate for the rest of his thoughts to come pouring out. “I think everything about her is wonderful: her eyes, her hair, her attitude, how genuine she is, how strange. She’s told me about her life before Oakwald and I don’t hold it against her. In fact, I think it helps her understand me better. I told her about Connall,” he said, observing the way Aelin jerked in surprise, almost splitting her finger open with the knife. “Yeah,” he agreed, “I was surprised, too. It just felt right. But that’s the worst thing: she makes everything feel…okay. Does that make sense? She makes me feel normal, she takes my mind off Connall and Maeve and how we’re going to war in less than two days. I shouldn’t be able to feel those things—I don’t deserve to feel those things, but I do. And I like it, and I hate that I like it. I deserve to feel the suffocating, dark and sad emotions I felt before she showed up. I haven’t—” he gasped for air. “After everything that’s happened and everything I’ve done, I haven’t earned the right to feel ‘okay’.” 

Aelin stepped forward to interrupt Fenrys’ pacing, grabbing his arm to turn him around. “You and I have done and seen some terrible things,” she said slowly, “and for some reason we’re still alive, still left to atone every day for our actions and reflect on the past each night. There will never be a day I don’t go to bed wondering why I’m still alive, the smallest part of me wishing I had died that night I forged the lock even though a bigger part of me wanted to survive. I’m sure you feel the same way. But listen to me Fenrys,” she demanded, grabbing his face with both hands and forcing him to look at her. “You deserve happiness. You deserve to make a life that is your own to control.” Her voice dropped until it was barely audible. “We both do.”

Catching the moon’s reflection, a tear traced a trail down Fenrys’ check. He squeezed his eyes shut tight to block the rest in. With a hoarse voice, he replied, “Thank you, Aelin. I’m not sure if I believe you right now, but I’ll try. I’ll try to believe you.” He opened his eyes and breathed, “But somedays it’s just so much easier to be sad, to let my thoughts control me. I don’t know if I have what it takes to try or to fight my way out of this. It’s just so much effort, Aelin. I don’t know if I have what it takes,” he repeated.

She laid a gentle hand on his chest. “Then let me help you. Let her help you. Because I’ve seen the way you are around her, and I know how strong you are. You broke Maeve’s blood oath, Fenrys. You saved my life. You deserve to be happy.”

He ran her words over in his mind, using them as a balm to soothe the cuts. In the darkest part of the gaping hole in his chest, a tiny flame of hope ignited. “Do you really think she would want to help me?”

“I really do. I think you two would be good for each other.”

His spark of hope grew a little bigger when he thought of the tiny red-haired female he’d found naked in the woods. He smiled. “I should go talk to her.”

Aelin nodded. “Yes, you should. And I should go to sleep. Rowan’s snoring keeps me up all night. Do you know of any way to drown out his atrocious noises?” The playful tone he loved was back in her voice, but when he glanced down at her she blinked four times and squeezed his hand. I am here, I am with you. 

“Unfortunately, the only way we ever made him stop was by stuffing Lorcan’s sock in his mouth while he slept. It didn’t end well for anyone.” He blinked back his response as she laughed, and they headed to the tents in silence, arm in arm.

The walk back gave Fenrys time to reflect on his thoughts and begin to untangle the massive knot of fears and worries in his chest. Talking with Aelin had helped bring some things to light, but he still had a lot to sort through. Ever since Aelin had been captured and Connall had died, hell ever since he’d first sworn the damned bloodoath to Maeve, his life had changed drastically. It was dramatic thinking, but a dark cloud full of the heaviest rain had blacked out the parts of his life he’d once enjoyed. He just went through the motions of life, feeling like a clear bubble encased and separated him from the outside world. He could see and hear through the bubble, but there was always that fine layer keeping him apart. There was nothing for him to do inside the bubble except examine his own thoughts, over and over until they became truth to him. Now, after spending so much time inside, he’d grown to be almost fond of it. It required no effort from him and gave him little in return. But now, Aelin had suggested that he try. She’d urged him to break out of the walls of sadness and memory keeping him inside what had been his home for so long. He didn’t know if he could, or if he even wanted to. It was safe here, safe from fresh pain and the blinding brightness of the outside world. He had grown fond of the muted colors and sounds and dull old pain that lapped over him like waves, sang a familiar melody to him that kept his mind adrift. He was home in this sadness, and even if he could leave it, he wasn’t sure he wanted to. There, he’d admitted it. It was easier being sad than it was taking the first steps towards happiness. 

Acacia could make him happy. She did make him happy. Was she worth leaving the bubble? He thought of Aelin and Rowan and Gavriel and Vaughn. Were they worth it? The value he placed on his life might be an insignificant number, but to them he realized it was much bigger. Could he try to be happy, for them? 

He knew it was about much more than just being happy: it was about living his life. How was he going to spend the rest of his immortal life? Would he allow Maeve and Connall to haunt him forever, constant companions he took with him wherever he went? This wasn’t a question he could answer tonight, possibly not even in the next week or upcoming months. But he could make a choice right now, keep it simple by making one choice at a time so he didn’t feel overwhelmed.

What should he do now? He thought of two different options he could choose between. The first option was going back to his tent and dozing off after staring at the tent ceiling for several hours and flipping through his memories like a slideshow. Or. Or. Or, he could start feeling the bubble’s walls out for weaknesses, start tapping at spots to see if they cracked. He thought of Acacia’s compassionate eyes, of Aelin’s fiery grin, of Rowan’s approving nods, Gavriel’s quiet companionship and Elide’s even temper. He thought of his brother’s arm slung around his shoulder. And he began searching for a hammer to shatter the walls.

◊◊◊

He found her tent easily enough, the subdued scent of strawberries and sweet rain guiding him to where she rested for the night. Fenrys hesitated before opening the flap, but quietly yanked it open before he could change his mind. 

Acacia was sleeping curled up on a mat, hair strewn over her face and on the ground in a magnificent mess around her head. Her chest rose and fell softly, and he counted six breaths before he placed a hand on her hip and gently shook her awake. 

She shot straight up, arms flailing. He had to catch one of her hands before it could connect with his head. 

“Hi,” he snickered as she leveled a full glare at him. “Nice aim.”

She yanked her arm out of his grip only to hit him on the side of the head. “It’s not nice to sneak into other people’s tents in the dead of night,” she scolded. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, rubbing the spot where she hit him. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

As if remembering what had occurred between them earlier, Acacia quickly pulled her blanket up to cover her chest and set her face into a defiant scowl. “What do you want?”

“Can I sit down?”

She nodded, and he carefully sat down beside her, close enough to feel her breath caress his cheek. He tried to gather his thoughts before he spoke again. He had made one choice in coming here, and now he had to stick with it. He needed to tell her exactly what she needed to know. 

“Look, I’m sorry if I offended you tonight. I didn’t mean to.”

“You didn’t,” she denied, her voice was curt and defensive. This wasn’t starting off well.

“Either way, I’m sorry. I came here to explain.”

She gestured for him to keep talking. 

Might as well dive right in. “Right after Maeve killed my brother, she made me service her while kneeling in a pool of his blood with his dead body a foot away from me.”

Acacia gasped and her face whitened several shades. She immediately reached out and clung to his arm. “Fenrys I’m so sorry, I had no idea.”

“Just listen,” he requested. “Instead of processing what had happened or giving me time to myself to grieve, she made me perform sexual acts that were all about her. To be crude, she rubbed my face in how much power she had over me, and the death of my brother will now forever be tainted with that. I didn’t want the death of your siblings to be ruined for you the same way.”

“You wouldn’t have tainted it,” she promised, voice hushed and tearful.

He shook his head. “You don’t know that. Maybe you think that way now, but what about if you change your mind later and realize you only fucked me to get your mind off what happened to your family, and you regret it? Not only will you resent me, but you’ll be upset with yourself and then sex will be forever connected to your dead family. I just didn’t want that to happen to you.”

“Is that how it is for you,” she asked, voice cracked and broken. “Do you think about Maeve every time?”

“Sometimes,” he whispered, voice just as fragmented as hers. “Sometimes it’s all I can think about. But not when I’m with you.” He cradled her face, thumb skimming away loose tears.

“How do I know you’re not just saying that?” she worried, pulling her face away from his touch.

Fenrys’ heart broke, and he tried to think of a way to make her believe what he was saying. “With you,” he began, cautiously examining each word before he used it, “it’s different. I don’t feel like there’s any part of me I have to hide when I’m with you. That allows me to be in the moment and stay out of my head. I can enjoy you and the way you feel.” He ran a hand up her smooth arm, relishing the way she shivered under his touch. “The way you taste.” He slowly brought her hand up to his mouth and brushed his lips over her skin. “The noises you make.” A stinging bite to her neck drew out the soft whimper he was looking for. “It’s all just you,” he finished. Never before had he been this vulnerable with his heart and his emotions, and never before had pushing at the bubble surrounded him felt so freeing. 

“Thank you for trying to protect me,” she murmured, running her sparkling violet eyes over his face. “However, you don’t have to worry about me resenting you. That would never happen.” 

“But you understand what I was trying to do?”

“Yes, Wolf,” she reassured him. Acacia paused, doubt flickering over her face.

“What is it?”

“How do you get over it? How do you get over what she made you do?”

Fenrys ran his hands through her hair, gently stopping to untangle each snarl his fingers snagged upon and thought about her question. Maeve had never forbidden him from taking other lovers, so there had been plenty of times when he’d drank too much that he’d hooked up with a willing female, or when he’d needed to blow off the ever present tension being under Maeve’s control put on him. He’d had fun with them, but none of the women he’d bedded had ever meant anything special to him. Fenrys had seen no possibility of a future with them, and besides being relatively attractive, they’d possessed no qualities that captured his attention for long. Admittedly, he liked them wild and beautiful, but he’d never found anyone he wanted to hold onto for the rest of his life. Until now. 

Fenrys shook himself at the thought. Was that what Acacia meant to him now? Was he really willing to spend the rest of his life with her, especially after only knowing her for such a short time? He wasn’t so sure about that and tucked the thought away to examine later. It was possible his first real case of deep attraction was messing with his head. 

Snapping back to reality, Fenrys realized he’d been staring and silent for too long. “I’m sorry, what did you ask?”

“I said, how do you get over what she made you do?”

“Oh. I like to be in control, in bed,” he admitted. “She was always in control, so it helps keep me in the present when I take the lead.”

“Hmm,” she hummed, sitting up and sliding herself onto his lap.

“What,” he asked, suddenly finding it harder to breathe as her soft curves pressed fully against him.

“Oh, nothing really,” she teased. “I was just thinking how perfect that is because I like to be the one controlled in bed.” 

“Fuck,” he panted, gripping her hips tightly.

“What do you say?” the perfect goddess sitting on his lap asked, running her hands slowly up the front of his shirt. “How badly do you want to control me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know your thoughts on the story so far and what you think about how I'm writing for Fenrys or if there's anything I can do to improve on his character :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenrys' POV. They finally have sex (yay!) and the first signs of the mating bond begin to appear for Fenrys.

◊◊◊  
Every inch of his chest where she touched him burst into flame. He wanted those hands lower, wrapped around him and fueling a different kind of fire. 

“Listen,” he said with difficulty, trying his best to keep his hands to himself. “Listen. Don’t tease me. I need to be sure that if we keep going, you’ll be alright with this and won’t regret it in the morning or several days down the road.”

“I appreciate your concern, Fenrys, but I am a grown ass female and I know what I want.” Acacia roughly shoved his shoulders and pressed her weight on him until he was laying flat on his back, her knees pinning him down on either side of his torso.

Within a second, he had their positions flipped and snarled into her face. “And while I appreciate you appreciating my concern, Acacia, I’ve wanted to hold you down and fuck you until you screamed ever since you stripped down naked in the river and had me stand guard. So, it’s not me I’m concerned about here, it’s you and the conversation we literally just had regarding your family’s death.”

She rolled her eyes and blew a sigh right into his face. “I promise you, I am fine. I want this, and I won’t regret it later.”

Fenrys studied her intently, before a wicked grin stretched across his face. “If you say so, Lady, then I believe you.” He pressed his hips down against hers so she could feel the hardening length in his pants. “Let’s finish what you started.”

“Excuse me, you were the one—” 

He fisted his hands in her hair and kissed her until she was breathless. “You’re going to stop talking now.” 

She just laughed then arched up against him as his hands trailed down her body. They reached the bottom of her shirt, and he pulled the hem up and over her head. Fenrys paused for a second to admire her, then her hands were yanking on his own shirt. He swiftly pulled it off and couldn’t help the smug feeling of satisfaction when she let out a small intake of breath at the sight of his muscled chest. The cadre always did make fun of him for his vanity issue. Flexing his arms a bit as he leaned over her, he grinned. “Like what you see?”

Acacia pretended to look him up and down critically, then said, “Hmmm, so far I’m only partially satisfied. Pull these off and we’ll see how I feel.” Her fingers were already working the string knots of his pants. Fenrys pushed her fingers aside, undid the knots and shoved his pants down. He held his breath while she studied him. 

Her face highlighted with red, she smiled up at him. “I like what I see,” she whispered, and tentatively reached out a hand to touch him. Feather-light fingertips caressed him, and he shuddered as she ran the tip of her finger in circles over the head of his shaft.

Thankful she had been sleeping and her boots were off, Fenrys hooked his fingers inside her pants and slid them off. Fully exposed to him now, the blush on Acacia’s face deepened but she smiled up at him with a challenge in her eyes. 

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured in a reverent tone. She truly was. Her pale thighs had a spattering of freckles and so did her stomach. Grabbing her wrists in one hand, he bent his head and began plastering a trail of kisses from her collarbones down to her navel, making sure he covered each freckle as he moved farther down. She started squirming when he reached her hip bones and, while maintaining eye contact with her glazed eyes, swiped his tongue down the angular crease from her hipbone to where her legs met. Acacia let out a gasp and tried to pull her hands from his grasp to touch him.

“I don’t think so,” he said. “I need to be in control here, remember? At least, for this time.” He pressed his full weight down onto her hands. 

“Okay, sorry” she said, voice raspy. 

Fenrys dipped his head back, taking in her scent and the tinge of magic that coated the enclosed space. Maintaining eye contact with her, he slowly licked a stripe up her center, pressing his tongue flat against the bundle of nerves that sent liquid lightening flowing through her veins. He felt smug satisfaction as her hips lifted up into the air and a small gasp escaped her. 

“By the time I’m done, you’re going to be begging for me,” he threatened. He only had time to notice her eyes widen before he yanked her hips closer and tucked his head between her legs. He felt something tighten in his chest at the taste of her, as her scent wrapped around his head and clouded his vision until all he knew was her and his ability to give her pleasure. His flicked his tongue over her, his only goal being to make her scream his name. When he inserted a finger into her, she writhed underneath him and let out a quiet moan. 

He glanced up at her between her legs, knowing the sight of her head tilted back in pure pleasure would forever be burned into his mind. “You better be careful,” he murmured, “you don’t want to wake up the whole camp.”

Acacia hissed at him and shoved his head back down between her legs with a hand she managed to wiggle free of his grasp. He chuckled, then sucked at her clit, adding flicks and presses of his tongue until she was begging in breathy pleas.

“Please, Fenrys.”

“Hmmm,” he hummed, adding another finger and curving them slightly. 

“I want you.”

Fenrys thought about making her beg, making her tell him exactly where and how she wanted him, but the throbbing he felt between his legs had him deciding to save that for another time. He gave her one last slow swipe of his tongue before rising up above her and bracing his weight on his forearms. With their faces inches apart, he savored the desire-addled glaze that coated her eyes like a film. He was sure his eyes looked the same. Her graceful arms encircled his neck, pulling him closer until his full weight pushed her down into the bedroll. He held back a moan as their bodies lined up and he felt her slickness sliding against his member. Fenrys shifted his hips so he rubbed against her, desperately needing some type of friction.

“Turn over,” he rasped, his hips rutting one final time against hers. Acacia quickly obeyed, and this time he couldn’t keep in his groan at the sight of her—her firm thighs, rounded backside, arching back— and the anticipation that had built into a tidal wave ready to consume him. Fighting against the roaring need in his head to take to use to own he reached out a hand and gripped the back of her neck. Slowly, so wonderfully and tauntingly slowly, he trailed the same hand down the enticing line of her back, smoothing over the dips of her spine and divots of her hips, mesmerized by the swells of her backside and taught muscles of her thighs. He inched his fingers back up and grazed between her legs. His heart shuddered as she looked back over her shoulder at him and spread her legs in answer.  
Something primal roared at the sight of her like that, legs spread open, ready for him to take. He couldn’t wait any longer and gripped her chin so she was looking at him. “Are you ready?” he purred.

“I’m ready,” she promised, lifting her hips up slightly to press against him. “I want you.”

He growled at the confirmation and gripped her hips tightly to pull her up onto her knees. When Acacia was balanced on all fours, he pressed his tip lightly against her opening and paused, suddenly flooded with worry. 

“You’ve done this before?” The question slipped out of his mouth before he could stop it. Maybe this was the wrong time to be asking these questions, maybe they should have sorted this out long before they ended up in this position, but he’d been so overcome with lust and desire for her the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. And if she was a virgin… He didn’t think he’d be able to stomach taking her like this for her first time. She deserved to lose her virginity to so much more than a rough fuck in a tent for gods above.

“Yes,” she replied through what sounded like gritted teeth. 

He smirked at her impatience, relief flowing through him. But he still had to know… “And you’re okay with me being in control?”

“Gods above, Fenrys,” she growled, pushing back against him. “I said yes, now fuck me already.”

He laughed, something like affection lighting up his veins before submitting to the pulsing need that swept through him once again. 

“Lady, you don’t have to ask me twice,” he taunted, and in one quick movement he sheathed himself completely inside her.

The world stopped. Or maybe joining with Acacia had allowed him to escape this world and enter some other dimension, some other time where no sounds existed besides the ethereal gasps and moans of his lover, no sights except for the moon’s luminescence transformed and bent into the beautiful creature moving beneath him, no tastes or scents except for the explosion of ripe strawberries and hint of summer rain, no expectations save for the infinite possibilities of what they could become, together. A golden light burst behind his eyelids, and he traced it all the way to the center of his chest where it curled around his heart. At his first thrust into Acacia, as the friction of sliding out and then into her wetness threatened to shatter his very bones, Fenrys could have sworn he saw that golden light, now twined like a thread, swirl and condense around Acacia like a sun-struck cloud. She moaned and the sight disappeared, but Fenrys still felt the light in his chest, a new weight that pulsed with every thrust he made.

He took his time at first, letting her get used to the feel of him. Fenrys slowly pulled his cock out before sliding it back in, not stopping until his balls smacked against her bottom. He repeated the slow rhythm, trying his best to stomp down on the urge to pin her down and fuck her until she screamed. But when she met his gaze over her shoulder and mouthed, “more,” he lost all bits of control.

Fisting her hair in one hand, he leaned slightly forward and covered her mouth with the other. “So no one comes running at the sound of your screams,” he said, and she seemed to clench down harder around him at the explanation. 

Fenrys pulled out all the way before slamming back into her, hard. He kept up the pace, head high in the clouds as he relished the feel of her, like nothing he had ever experienced before. He carried on relentlessly, grateful he covered her mouth with all the squeaks and moans that still escaped through his fingers. With every stroke, the golden light seemed to glow a little bit brighter between them.  
When the feel of being inside of her became too much, when he could no longer ignore the urge to dominate and completely own, he pressed his full weight down on her so her elbows buckled and she was laying flat on her stomach. Knees situated on either side of her hips, hands still pressing her head to the ground and covering her mouth, he picked up the pace, lost in the sounds of their skin smacking together. Fenrys couldn’t draw his eyes away from hers, lost in a sea of violet.

The new angle allowed him to hit a new spot inside Acacia that drew constant noises out of her, only adding fuel to his fire. Each pounding thrust built up a steadily rising wave of pleasure, and he could see in her eyes the same ecstasy consuming her as well. He tilted his hips deeper, and a barely concealed scream slipped past his fingers. Shoving two fingers inside her mouth, he aimed for that spot again, planning to make good on his promise to see her scream and come undone. Several more strikes of his hips and he felt her shatter beneath him, a star bursting into countless shining fragments. The clench of her inner walls on him had him gasping for air, a strangled noise escaping his lips. He kept going, chasing his release, lost to the silvery feel of her. When his release came, fast and hard, he had to bite down on her shoulder to keep himself from roaring her name into the endless black night. The knot inside his chest tightened into something almost tangible. 

When he could finally breathe again, he gently pulled out of her and collapsed to the side, careful not to crush her. Acacia stiffly rolled over to face him, pillowing her head on an arm. A timid grin flitted across her face.

“Hi,” she whispered.

“Hello, gorgeous,” he breathed, reaching out to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. He couldn’t quite read her, but she seemed to be nervous, uncertain about how he would act now that they were done fucking. Normally after he got laid and caught his breath, he would be out of the door before the female could try to convince him to stay. And he only left Maeve’s room once she had given him permission to go, no matter how much he was silently straining to leave. Now, though, there was nowhere else in the world he would rather be.

He held out an arm, a silent invitation, and she scooted closer. Resting her head on his chest, Acacia also threw a leg over his body and an arm around his chest. The part of him that was more animal than male growled in approval at the possessiveness in her touch. 

She tilted her head back to meet his gaze. “That was…nice,” she said.

Fenrys burst out laughing. “Nice? That’s all you have to say about it? That it was ‘nice’?”

She frowned in mock outrage. “Sorry to injure your male pride. It was the most ground-breaking, earth-shaking sex I’ve ever had. How about that?”

He smirked, moving a hand to stroke her curls. “That’s slightly better.” 

Acacia just rolled her eyes before closing them and nestling closer to his chest.

Fenrys felt his heart tighten at the gesture and quickly tried to come up with something to say so he wouldn’t have to analyze his reaction.

“For some reason, I’d pictured the wild Lady of the Forest as a virgin.”

She snorted. “Really? Well, sorry to disappoint you, but just because I’ve been living in the forest doesn’t mean I’ve been celibate.”

Another sliver of worry he hadn’t wanted to fully face crept up before him. “So you weren’t… that is, in Sollemere…you’d never…nobody had ever…”

She interrupted him with a shake of her head before he could continue to stumble over his words. “No. I was one of the lucky ones who never experienced a violation like that.” Her face darkened, and he wondered what other violations she’d experienced in the disgusting city she had once called home. Despite the loss of her family, he couldn’t help but feel nothing but stark relief that Rowan and Lorcan had razed it to the ground.

To get her mind off the past and dark thoughts that were undoubtedly smothering her mind, he asked, “So when was your first time, then?”

His tactic worked, because her eyes were clear when she looked up at him with a small smile of disbelief on her face. “You want to hear the story about how I lost my virginity?”

Fenrys nodded. “I’ll swap you story for story.”

“Oh, that will be good,” she mumbled under her breath, but acquiesced to his request. “His name was Cidran, and he was lost in Oakwald. The Little Folk led me to him, although I’m sure I would have found him eventually with how much noise he was making trampling through the forest. He never actually told me where he was from, but I always assumed it was from Adarlan or some other city facing the king’s wrath. He had magic running through his veins—or used to—and faced persecution. There was a lot of secrecy in our relationship, and I never did find out what he was doing in Oakwald, or where he planned on going.” 

“Tsk tsk,” Fenrys scolded. “What a terrible foundation for a relationship.”

Acacia lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “It wasn’t much of a relationship, to be honest. I found him where the Little Fold said he’d be, starving, lost and near death. I fed him and nursed him back to health. He was the first person I’d talked to since, well since Lila. I hadn’t realized that I was lonely until he became strong enough to hold a conversation, and we spent all night talking. I don’t know if he was truly handsome, or only appeared handsome to me because of my absence from society, but I quickly became infatuated. He stayed with me for several days under the trees, gave me my first kiss as thanks when I caught him dinner one night and then one thing led to another.”

Fenrys, slightly discomforted and displeased at the lack of details, pressed, “Was he gentle?” 

She buried her face back in his chest, moving her hand to lightly stroke circles over his abdomen. “Gentle enough.” 

He fought the growl rising in his chest at the thought of her first time being unpleasant or anything less than perfect. “What happened after that?”

“Cidran left the next morning before I woke up. Through my forest network, I easily tracked him down but decided not to chase after him. I stopped keeping tabs on him after a couple days, so I don’t know if he ever made it through Oakwald to where he was going. And there hasn’t been anyone else after that.” 

Fenrys hand continued to stroke her hair as he contemplated her words. The more she shared about her past, the more he came to realize just how lonely of a life she had lived so far. A taunting, nagging part of him wondered if he was simply another Cidran, a new and shiny male that caught her attention out of sheer loneliness and desperation. He didn’t like that thought and tried to push it down, but another one came bubbling up to replace it. Was that all she was to him? Something bright and willing to fill the empty hole in his own chest? To start patching over the missing Connall sized piece? He snarled at himself. Snap out of it, Fenrys. 

She prodded him with a finger. “Your turn. Tell me about your first time.”

It was an effort to draw his mind up from the deep dark well it had sunk into. “Her name was Rasma. She wasn’t very pretty, but she flitted and danced around Connall and I for years trying to catch our attention. To her utter disappointment, we normally just ignored her. We both had our sights set on another girl, one of my father’s friend’s daughters. Connall started courting her, even though I know she liked us both, and when he told me he had finally slept with her I was furious. Most of the rage was simply because he was the first out of us to have sex, but also partly because I had wanted her for myself. Not wanting to be left behind, I started flirting with Rasma and eventually took her to bed. Honestly, it’s not my proudest moment.” Seeing the disapproval in Acacia’s eyes, he added, “I did date her for a little while afterwards, to try and make it work between us, but honestly she was so freaking annoying I just couldn’t stand her anymore and told her to piss off.” 

Acacia choked on a laugh. “What a gentleman.”

Fenrys snorted. “I never claimed to be one.”

She let out a small yawn and mumbled something about insufferable Fae males. He pressed his cheek to the top of her head, letting her scent wash over him. “We should sleep. One more day of marching and then we’ll be in battle.”

“Are you nervous?”

He weighed his options about what to tell her, not wanting to add to her own nerves, but then decided to go with honesty. “I’m terrified,” he replied, and felt her arms squeeze tighter around him in response. “We stand to lose everything if this war goes badly: Terrasen, our court, my friends—my family—everything. We’ll either walk away to build a new world or die watching the old one crumble around us.”

“I’m scared, too,” she admitted. “I don’t have as much to lose as you do, no friends or family, but Oakwald…”

“You have us, now,” he said. “Aelin, Elide, Rowan, Gavriel. Hell, even Lorcan, although he’s not worth much.”

“And you,” she whispered. “I could lose you, too.”

“That’s not going to happen,” he promised, although his mind warned him otherwise. Ignoring the part of him that always thought the worst, he gently pressed a kiss to Acacia’s forehead. “Sleep.”  
She let out a long breath before closing her eyes, letting sleep overcome her.

As she drifted off, Fenrys stared up into the darkness and ran their conversation over in his mind. He’d been in countless wars and battles, but never in his life had he felt fear’s grip as tightly as he did now. He could lose so much, and it would rip him to pieces so small he wouldn’t stand a chance of ever putting himself back together again. Especially if something were to happen to the female he now held in his arms, whose breath tickled his cheek and brushed soothingly against his soul. 

Night yielded to day, and the first rays of dawn’s light found Fenrys wide awake, still lost in thought from the night before and desperately trying to ignore the golden thread connecting him and the lady in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took me so long to write, I was busy with my final exams for online classes. But now that they're over, I'll have more time to write so yay! I came up with a new story idea the other night and started to write that, but then decided to just finish this one first, but at least I'll have something to write after this story ends! Also, I started reading her other series for the first time, and I think its' funny that Rhys has violet eyes because I had no idea when I started writing this story, so they're definitely not connected at all, just a coincidence.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Acacia's POV Trigger Warning for this chapter: mentions of past rape

***  
Acacia woke up, his arms wrapped tightly around her, and realized she had never truly felt happiness. Yes, there had been moments, like discovering a secluded pond with sunlight rippling tranquilly over the water, or watching baby birds hatching from their sky-blue eggs. But never had she felt such explicit joy, had every part of her alight with the feeling as she did when she woke up and recognized the strong pair of arms encircling her, holding her close to his chest. Softly, she brushed her fingers over his hand, stroking up his forearm and back down. She tried to memorize the feel of his skin, the tan coloring and soft golden hairs.

Last night had been everything she’d hoped it would be. Maybe it made her crazy that she didn’t care they hadn’t done it face to face, or that he hadn’t been gentle. Maybe she should care more about how little the sex might have meant to him, when every time she thought about it her face flushed and her heart leapt in her chest. Maybe she should have told him what they were to each other before they’d even gone this far, but she’d felt it last night: small and uncertain as it had been, a bond had locked in place between them. Acacia didn’t know if he had felt it, or if he would even recognize it for what it was. But it was there, and they could now only grow closer because of it. Unless, she thought, a cold sweat suddenly covering her body, he rejected the bond and decided he wanted nothing to do with her and the connection they could have. He wouldn’t do that though, would he? 

Fenrys stirred behind her, interrupting those terrible thoughts. His arms tightened around her as he stretched, body pressed against hers, and she could feel his hard length through his pants. He didn’t bother to shift his hips away and he buried his face in her hair.

“Good morning,” he mumbled, his voice deep, sleep-laden and scratchy. A voice she wouldn’t mind waking up to for the rest of her life.

“Hello.” She twisted to face him, daring to stroke her fingers over his cheek. She wasn’t sure how she expected him to act, if he would want nothing to do with her now that they’d fucked, but she took him staying to sleep and hold her all night as a good sign.

His beautiful dark eyes roamed her face inquisitively, as if he was asking himself the same question about her. He apparently found the answer he was looking for when he admitted, “Last night was the best night of sleep I’ve had in a long time.”

Acacia smiled gently at him, tucking a stray curl of his hair behind his ear and letting her fingers linger there. “Good,” she said. “Me too.”

His brows furrowed slightly, even as he tilted his head into her touch. “Nightmares?”

She hummed in confirmation.

“Me too, normally,” he said quietly. “Honestly, I don’t know a single person in our court who doesn’t have them.” He smiled grimly. “We’re all one big fucked up group, trying and failing to save the world.”  
“Who will save the world,” Acacia gently corrected, boldly running a feather-light finger down his cheek, inwardly thrilling at how she could do that now, how she could touch him at will. “You can’t think like that, remember?”

Fenrys chuckled and rolled onto his back in a stretch, dislodging her from her place on his chest. Frowning grumpily at him, she wriggled over to take up her place again. He wrapped an arm around her. “You can’t listen to a single thing I say. I’m full of shit.”

There it was again, the self-deprecating pattern of speech brushing the surface. She wondered if she should bring it up, question him about why he thought so little of himself when she already considered him to be worth more than she could ever hope for in life. But she hesitated to say anything, still struggling to understand where the line between them was drawn. They’d had sex; they weren’t in a relationship, she had no sort of claim over him and he had no reason or obligation to explain himself to her. Hell, she still barely knew him. She didn’t know how far to push him or what topics were firmly off limits for conversation. Learning someone was an art form, and one she had barely practiced. In the social sphere, she was a blindfolded elephant stumbling around and leaving a mess for others to clean up.

But he was her mate…which meant Acacia should ask him those kinds of questions, right? They were already too far beyond vague niceties and filler conversation. She wanted to know his heart and his soul, regardless of how tarnished he claimed it to be. 

She decided to offer an exchange: a truth for a truth.

“When I turned 30, my little sister Iris had a baby.” Fenrys’ head jerked down to look at her, eyes full of surprise and confusion at the sudden confession and change of topic. 

“That’s…nice” he ventured to say.

“It was,” Acacia sighed, picturing the child in her mind. “She was the most beautiful baby I had ever seen. Rosy cheeks, shining violet eyes, a head full of dark curly hair. I thought that maybe the gods had made a mistake and gifted my sister with a piece of stardust or moonlight turned corporeal and given life. Iris, however, did not share my thoughts. She had been raped and wanted nothing to do with the baby.” Fenrys tightened his arms around her in silent sympathy.

“During her pregnancy, she wouldn’t tell us anything about who did it to her, or what had happened. I was surprised she didn’t want revenge, and even more shocked when she kept the baby. She was living by herself, but when the due date approached, she moved back into my father’s house where I was staying. She resisted at first, but she eventually let me help her set up a room for the baby and come up with names. She didn’t really care about it, but I think she was obliging my enthusiasm. One night, she even asked me to help her take care of the baby after it was born.” 

Tears began to cloud her vision as she remembered her normally stoic and independent sister asking for help. “She just looked so lost, so helpless. I’d never seen her like that before. When she finally had the baby, Iris took one look at it and handed it to me.” Acacia let out a huff of laughter. “She said, ‘Since you want the damn thing so bad, here. You hold it.’ It was the best moment of my life,” she admitted. “Staring into those brand-new eyes, knowing the death and destruction of the world hadn’t hurt them yet.”

“A promise of a new and better future,” Fenrys murmured. 

She smiled at his understanding. “Exactly. Iris didn’t see that, though. I think all she could see was the man who had hurt her so badly. So she let me hold the baby, and even let me name her. I decided on Night Blossom, Blossom for short, because even out of the darkest nights beauty and strength can be found. The name was a tribute to my sister’s strength. Iris only snorted when I explained to her why I chose it, but she never asked me to change the name. So it stayed.” 

“Beautiful choice,” was all Fenrys offered. 

“I thought so. As soon as I held Blossom in my arms and looked into her eyes, I wanted to escape right then and there,” Acacia admitted. “I wanted to pack up everything and just leave. I didn’t know where I would go or how I could possibly make a living, but I wanted to leave before Sollemere could darken the light I saw in Blossom.”

“Is that when you left, then?”

“No,” Acacia whispered, clenching her fist in the fabric of his shirt in an attempt to ground herself to the present moment. If she wasn’t careful, she would get swept away in her memories and become stuck in her mind. Sometimes, it took her days to find her way back out again. 

“What happened?” Fenrys’ voice was tinted with sorrow, as if he could feel the pain he knew was coming.

“Everything was great for a while. I helped Iris take care of the baby, and even my father took an occasional interest in her.” For a moment, it had felt like they were a true family, looking out for each other. “Somehow, HE found out. I have no idea how, Iris was so tight-lipped about it. But one day, there was a pounding at the door and there was Blossom’s father, demanding to see the baby. We said no, of course, but that only made him angry. He kept insisting that he had a right to see his kid, that he only wanted to see her and then he’d leave. Iris eventually gave in and let him see Night Blossom just to make him go away. I’d never seen Iris so pale and frightened. He looked at Blossom for a minute, and then he got angry. So, so horribly angry.”

Acacia’s voice dropped to a whisper. “He started calling Iris a stupid bitch, saying he wanted no connection with her and asking why she hadn’t gotten rid of the child when she had the chance. Then there was this…gleam…in his eyes, and he looked so evil. He said that if she didn’t have the balls to get rid of the baby, then he would do it himself.” Her voice hitched on the last few words, and tears slipped down her face. A sob racked her body, and she began shaking in his arms.

Fenrys stroked her hair, murmuring words of comfort in her ear. “You don’t have to finish the story,” he said.

“No, I want to.” Acacia drew in a shuddering breath. “Before we could stop him, he ripped the baby out of my arms and ran out the door. We chased after him, into the back alley and he…he…he…” She couldn’t say it, didn’t have the strength to conjure up the horrible deeds the man had inflicted onto the innocent baby. 

Fenrys held her close and began gently rocking her back and forth. 

When she could breathe again, Acacia finished her story. “When we reached him, Blossom was dead. Iris went into a feral rage, and I had to hold her back from attacking him. He would have killed us both. There are no rules in Sollemere about murder, even infanticide, so he got away with it.” She felt him shaking in what she assumed was rage. “I think a piece of both of our souls died that day, with Blossom. As much as Iris pretended not to care about her baby, her will to live shattered with Blossom’s death. A few days after the small funeral my sisters, father and I held for the baby, I found Iris dead, hanging from a rope in a closet.” 

Acacia couldn’t take the memories anymore and broke down into tears. Fenrys just continued to rock her, holding her through the pain that washed through her, biting harshly into every molecule and atom of her body. 

“She was such a happy baby,” she sobbed. “So so happy…and I didn’t do anything to stop him…he just grabbed her…and…and…and…”

“Shhhhh,” Fenrys soothed. “You’re okay. Just cry.”

So she did, subjected once again to the pain and soul-wrecking guilt she’d felt for the first time all those years ago. Time passed, and still Fenrys held her, letting her cry in his arms. 

When the pain felt tolerable again, when she had enough air in her lungs to draw a breath, she dared to glance up at his face. His eyes were tightly shut, and a single tear illuminated a path down his face. Her heart clenched. Feeling her stare, he cracked open an eye and cleared his throat.

“Is that when you left?”

“Yes. I don’t remember much about that night, when I snuck out of the city’s gates. I don’t remember how I got across the sea, how I paid for it or who and how I had to bribe. But I did it, even though it was too late.”

“But you got out.”

“I got out,” she echoed. 

He was silent, storing everything she had told him into the boxes in his mind he used to contain all the tragedies life threw upon him. Once every detail was securely tucked away, he asked, “Why did you tell me this?”

“Because I know you go through your days wondering if it’s worth bothering to search for a purpose. Because I know you go sleep every night wondering why you get to wake up to see another day when so many of your loved ones won’t ever get to open their eyes to witness another dawn. I know you blame yourself for every terrible thing that has happened, and you replay every moment in your head wondering if you’d only acted differently if the outcomes would be the same. I know you think you have no value and that everyone is keeping you around because of pity. I know you’d sell your soul and the entire world to see your brother again, and you think you should have died instead of him. I know these things, because I also feel them every single moment of every single day. And, Fenrys—" she reached up to cup his cheek that now glistened with his heartbreak, his pain, his regret, and perhaps even his relief at finally being understood—“I see how much you are worth. Your intrinsic value is not defined by the mistakes or events of the past, but what you are going to make of yourself in the future. I know it is going to hurt like hell, but you are going to survive the bad days and make it through to the good ones. Your friends care so much about you, and I know because I feel the same way about you. And I am going to stick by your side, and we will help each other get through for as long as you’ll have me.”

“You sure know a lot of things, don’t you,” he rasped after a moment.

She laughed softly, the barely concealed quaking of his voice telling her all she needed to know. How long had he been waiting for those words to be spoken to him, for someone to acknowledge his pain and love him regardless? “I sure like to pretend that I do.”

Fenrys gently pushed at her shoulder until she rolled over onto her side. Nestling up to her back, he wrapped his arms around her tightly, burying his face in her hair. She deeply inhaled his scent, letting it soothe her frazzled nerves and racing heart. 

“Today is a new day,” she whispered as they drifted off for the remaining time they had before dawn, facing sleep this time not with fear or trepidation of past haunts, but with open arms and the security that only comes with knowing someone has looked at your naked soul and embraced you for all that you are.

Fenrys sleepily nodded. “And we will face it together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yikes y'all this one was hard to write. I got through it though, sorry it was shorter and a little darker. I promise happier chapters are on the way sooooon


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenrys' POV. Poor Fenrys is struggling to figure out just what exactly he and Acacia have

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooooo sorry I haven't updated in a HOT minute, shit got busy but here I am! I'm at the point in the story where I'm going to be incorporating more text and dialogue from Kingdom of Ash so OBVIOUSLY everything that I use belongs to Sarah J Maas. Up until this point I've been taking a lot of liberties with adding to the text, but it will stick more to the script in the next few upcoming chapters (with a few changes of courseeee) but yeah here you guys go, damn I missed writing. Let me know what you think!

◊◊◊  
He matched the swaying of his horse to the tumbling of his thoughts as they faced another day of marching. Acacia rode ahead with Rowan, questioning the obviously uncomfortable male about what had happened to her home, dragging as many details out of him as possible. Fenrys knew that the only reason Rowan allowed the interrogation was because of his guilty conscious. He probably felt like he owed Acacia some answers after blowing her family to bits. Aelin trailed behind the pair, impatience and irritation radiating off of her in waves that kept everyone else steering clear of the queen. She clearly wanted to interrupt and steal Acacia away for an interrogation of her own, most likely wondering how many exact seconds they were away from Orynth. They’d crossed into Terrasen earlier that day.  
Aelin had been mean as an adder this morning with a bite to her words that was just as sharp, ordering around soldiers and her own court, snapping at anyone who dared delay their northward journey. Needless to say, it was the quickest they had ever departed. The only person the queen hadn’t dared to growl at was Acacia, who had simply crossed her arms and levelled a cool glare in her direction when Aelin had stalked over to see what was taking her and Fenrys so long. Fernys had to quickly pull his hand out from beneath Acacia’s shirt, and he still wasn’t sure if the queen had noticed what they had been up to.

It’s not that he didn’t want people to know about what had gone on between them, or that they were now…involved. He didn’t really know what to call it. He had spilled his guts to her, defined and pronounced his dirtiest secrets and most miserable fears, and then had fucked her senseless. And she had said the most beautiful words, carefully forming each sentence and applying it to the cracks in his heart like a bandage and to that glowing ball of…whatever it was… knotted in his chest like fuel to a flame. Denying any kind of connection between them was pointless. Regardless of his feelings on the matter, they were now irrevocably entwined in each other’s lives. 

Fenrys let out a small huff of frustration. Fuck feelings. Why did they have to be so complicated? How did he feel about their budding relationship? How did he feel about this stark, honest attraction and understanding between them? Hell if he knew. That’s what he promised himself he’d work out today on the ride, try to get his feelings sorted out before he stepped onto the battle field. However, mere minutes into the ride he knew that promise would be damn near impossible to keep. All he wanted to do was surge ahead, pull Acacia off her horse, lead her into the trees and pick up where they left off this morning before Aelin had interrupted them. 

His eyes glazed over as he thought about the warmth and weight of her breasts in his hand, how she let out a soft squeak when he rolled her nipples between his fingers. He desperately schemed up reckless excuses for getting her alone on the ride today, even if it was just for a few minutes. He shifted uncomfortably in his saddle seat, his pants suddenly feeling too constricting. Maybe her horse could go “lame” and she would have to ride with him. Maybe she would need a guide to go investigate a potential “shortcut” through the woods. Maybe he’d just tell Aelin that if he didn’t get ten minutes alone with Acacia, he’d… what? What would he do? They were on their way to save a kingdom and countless lives, and all he could think about was some female. 

Not just any female, he corrected. The most incredible female he’d ever met. Fenrys growled at himself in disgust, snapping his horse’s reins in irritation. Listen to yourself, he silently demanded, you’re going all soft. What’s next, you’ll pick flowers for Lorcan’s hair because they match his eyes so well?

Gavriel thankfully rode up beside him, providing Fenrys with a distraction and an opportunity to clear his mind. 

“What is it?” he asked the older warrior in terms of a greeting.

“I just wanted to check in with you, see if there’s anything to report.”

Ah, that’s right. He was supposed to be watching the line and keeping the soldiers in check. Instead, he was daydreaming and spying on a red-headed witch. Fenrys cleared his throat. “Everything’s fine up here,” he managed.

“Alright.” Doubt colored Gavriel’s voice and instantly set sparks loose on Fenrys’ temper. He was on a short leash today. A very short leash.

“What?” Fenrys snapped. 

Gavriel frowned at him, then glanced towards where Acacia and Rowan were talking. The sparks flickered out when Fenrys noticed how tightly Acacia gripped her reins, how stiffly she sat in her saddle. Obviously, her talk with Rowan was not going well. He wondered what the male was saying to her, if perhaps he had encountered her family before levelling the city to the ground.

“Fenrys.”

He whipped his head back to Gavriel. “What?” he asked again, this time with less of a bite. 

The lion sighed. “I just want to make sure you won’t be distracted tomorrow. We need you.” 

Fenrys snorted. “Did you have this same conversation with Lorcan?” Gavriel remained silent, staring at him with that knowing look Fenrys had always hated. Even after years of fighting together and serving Maeve side by side, Fernys still struggled to put words to his and Gavriel’s dynamic. Father and son was way too intimate and inaccurate (especially with Aedion being Gavriel’s actual son), mentor and trainee too formal. Gavriel was the calming presence that kept the cadre together, the listening ear he could always ask for advice, and the understanding companion when he just needed to sit with someone in silence. Every concern Gavriel voiced came from a genuine place. 

“I need to work some things out before we go into battle tomorrow,” Fenrys eventually admitted. 

Gavriel’s eye flicked once more to Acacia. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Fenrys genuinely considered the offer, before deciding that he would rather saw off his toes one by one with a toothpick. “No thank you. This is something I need to work out by myself, I think.”

His companion nodded. “Alright.” Gavriel moved to lead his horse away before pausing. “Make sure you’re monitoring the line,” he added sternly. 

Fenrys rolled his eyes but turned his horse to follow Gavriel. Before the male got too far away, Fenrys found himself calling out his name, asking him to wait. As he came closer, Fenrys took in the tight lines around the corners of Gavriel’s eyes, the stressed set of his mouth, the distracted fade to his eyes. 

“If you need to talk about, you know, Aedion,” Fenrys forced himself to say, “I’m here to listen.” He wasn’t sure if he’d ever said anything so genuine or serious to the other male before. 

Gavriel simply patted him on the shoulder, offered him a smile that was more of a grimace, and rode away.

Fenrys watched him disappear down the line, then shuddered. This war was turning him into someone he barely recognized. 

◊◊◊

Hours passed before a chance to talk with Acacia appeared. He’d dutifully rode up and down his share of the marching army, offering words of encouragement to the stragglers and the downhearted, and whipping threats and stern remarks to those causing problems. He knew Lorcan, Gavriel and Rowan were doing the same. When the prince had ridden by him, stoic-faced and temperamental, he’d hurried up the line to grab Acacia but Aelin beat him to it. So he waited, keeping himself busy while he attempted to corral his thoughts into categories and a format that made sense to him.

It was possible that he was overthinking this whole damn thing. It had admittedly been long enough of a time since he’d slept with a female that he could be making a big fuss out of nothing. But Acacia wasn’t really anything like the females he had been with in the past. Yes, she was fierce and wild and he was desperately attracted to her. However, they’d had sex one time and he’d formed a connection with her so strange here he was stressing about it hours after they’d been together.

You’re vulnerable, he silently berated himself. Of course your mind is going to form attachments wherever it can. You just lost the most important person in your life. This is just your brain trying to cope with Connall’s death and fill the hole he left behind.

That’s all it is.

No, seriously. That’s all it is.

Satisfied, or at least pretending to be, he reached down into his chest, grasped the golden knot sitting above his heart, twisted it, crumpled it up and shoved it deep down into a void where it wouldn’t bother or distract him any longer. A looming emptiness settled over him, lapping at the edges of his soul like a freezing tide in the heart of winter. Unease accompanied the feeling, along with an outright sense of wrongness, but Fenrys just shoved those down as well. There was nothing significant or important about his relationship with Acacia. There just couldn’t be. He wouldn’t treat her any differently, of course, and he still wanted whatever it was they had. It just wouldn’t—couldn’t—mean anything to him. 

There. He had sorted out his feelings. He would no longer be distracted. 

When Fenrys searched for Acacia again and saw her riding by herself, Aelin now side by side with Dorian, he urged his mount forward to catch up with her, relief sliding over him. She turned to look at him as he rode up, and his chest tingled with warmth when she smiled in greeting. Which meant absolutely nothing to him, of course.

“Hi,” she greeted him, grumpily removing a bright curl the wind blew into her mouth. “I was wondering when I’d see you.”

“You were busy,” Fenrys explained. “I was just waiting for Aelin and Rowan to finish talking with you.”

Her face darkened. “Oh, yes. That was…interesting.”

“What did they want? Not that you have to tell me,” he rushed to say. “Only if you want. If you want to tell me. You don’t have to.” Better stop talking now before he looked even more like an idiot than he already did. He studiously brushed a tangle out of his mare’s mane and tried his hardest to avoid the amused glint that lit up Acacia’s eyes.

“It wasn’t any top-secret meeting, if that’s what you were thinking,” she laughed. “I just wanted some more information about what happened to Sollemere and my family. I thought it over last night, and I decided I deserved to know everything about what happened, how my people died. I deserve to carry that weight for abandoning them.” The light that had momentarily illuminated her face faded back into shadow. 

Fenrys slid a comforting hand down her back, rubbing a small circle into the base of her spine. “Did he tell you what you wanted to know?”

“He did,” she confirmed quietly. “Now I just have to wait and see if knowing makes me feel better.”

“What about Aelin? What did she want?”

“Just asking for perhaps the thousandth time when we’ll reach Orynth.”

“What did you tell her?”

“The same thing I told her last time she asked: most likely by nightfall tomorrow.”

Fenrys nodded and tried to conceal his disappointment. He had thought that today would be their last full day of marching, but apparently they had another day ahead of them. He just wanted it all to be over already. 

Acacia seemed to pick up on his disappointment. “Are you okay,” she asked, violet eyes filling with concern.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he shrugged. With a mischievous grin taking over his face, he added, “But you know what would make me feel better?”

“What?” Gods, she was so innocent.

He leaned in closer and she mimicked him, leaning over until their faces were only inches apart, close enough so he could whisper into her ear, “Your lips around my cock.”

Acacia jerked back in surprise, and her face burned a furious shade of scarlet. “Fenrys,” she hissed, whipping her head around to make sure nobody was around to hear. “Now is not the time for—”

“Come on, darling,” he crooned softly. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.” He grabbed her hand and placed it so she could feel him beneath his pants, hard and waiting for her. When she yanked her hand away with a glare, he said, “I want to know if the real-life image of you bent over against a tree is just as hot as I’ve been imagining it.”

She let out the softest whimper and he knew he had won. Wrapping a curl around his finger, he yanked hard on her hair before instructing, “Go tell Aelin you’re going to scout ahead. Use those pretty little wings of yours to find us someplace we won’t be interrupted.”

“What about you,” she breathed.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll come find you. Now go,” he growled directly into her ear, “before I become impatient and fuck you right here in front of everyone.” 

Acacia threw him one last glance—heated, yet bashful—before surging ahead to talk to Aelin. Fenrys moved in the opposite direction, as if he were going to check on the soldiers like before. He quickly and quietly found a trustworthy soldier to tie his horse to for the time being, and then headed away from the army where he could shift without frightening the horses.

He raced through the woods, tracking Acacia’s mesmerizing scent to where she waited for him. The smell of her in his enhanced form reminded him of the first night they met. It felt like years had passed since then. 

Fenrys found her leaning against a tree, stroking the bark distractedly with a finger. He watched her for a minute, admiring the way her hair contrasted sharply with the falling snow. Seeing her standing there, lost in the secrets the pine whispered to her, he was struck by how truly she belonged in the forest and part of him expected her to blend into the tree and disappear from him forever.

Her eyes snapped up to find his where he crouched in the shadow of a pine and there was nothing tame in the grin reaching across her face. 

“There you are, Wolf. Are you going to hide there all day or are you going to come fuck me?”

His wolf form growled at her brazen words, and shifting quickly, had her pinned up against the tree in an instant. “I want you on your knees, baby girl,” he ordered, hand fisted in her hair.

Acacia smiled, running her hands over his chest. “Anything you—” she stopped midsentence, body locking up, eyes focused intently over his shoulder. 

Fenrys whipped around. He hadn’t heard anybody approach them, had somebody followed them out here? He almost dropped to his knees in shock when he saw her—it?—standing behind them: a tree dryad, the very spirit of Oakwald given life. 

Acacia pushed past him and nodded her head at the figure standing before them. “What is it?” she asked.

A voice as ancient as the trees filled the air, like the whisper of wind and the song of the forest. 

"Tell the Heir of Brannon she must hurry. Doom is upon Orynth."

Fenrys blinked and the spirit melted back into the forest, leaving them alone with only the whistling wind, creaking branches and echo of that ominous message for company.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Acacia's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, oof they're about to go to war yiiiikes. Okay also, quick note, I think the name of the city Acacia is from is actually called Sollemere, so I'm going to go back through and change the name from Ashkra to Sollemere bc I think that's what it is? And from now on I'll call it Sollemere. Cool cool, let me know what y'all think

They rode through the night. The dryad’s warning rippled through the army, the foreboding words slipping from mouth to ear like a match igniting, snuffing out any complaints that had burbled up on exhausted lips. A sense of urgency crackled in the air, making hair stand on end and eyes widen in alarm. Doom was upon Orynth. 

When the last rays of the sun’s light winked out below the horizon, Acacia watched Fenrys and the cadre take off down the line, searching for trouble and any pushback to the orders to keep marching. They all returned within the hour with the same report: everyone would march through the night. On Rowan’s command, Dorian and Acacia formed hundreds of glowing orbs to light the path for the soldiers. The hurried pace and inky darkness of the forest was a recipe for disaster for eyes that could not see in the dark.

Aelin summoned her court around her as she rode, along with the other royals. Acacia wasn’t sure if she should stick around or give them privacy, but one look from Aelin when she subtly tried to sneak off kept her where she was, Fenrys by her side. The male remained silent while everyone gathered, his lips pressed tightly together in quiet concern. Acacia caught the distressed looks he occasionally threw Aelin, as if he were wondering how she was holding up after the warning but was too afraid to ask in front of the others. She noticed Rowan doing the same.

If Acacia hadn’t delivered the message to the queen herself, she would never had guessed anything was wrong, with the way Aelin kept herself composed. The only tell that gave away the crack in her composure was the intent, predatory tilt to her head as she surveyed the surrounding forest, as if she could make the trees disappear simply by blinking at them. 

“That was not the news she wanted to hear right now,” Fenrys murmured to her, nodding distractedly to Yrene and Chaol as they rode up to the group. “She’s been worried we wouldn’t make it in time as it was: now it’s like her nightmares have taken form and whispered her darkest fears into her ears themselves.”

“I’m so sorry,” Acacia whispered. “I feel like this is all my fault.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Aelin brusquely interrupted whatever Fenrys was going to respond. “In fact, I don’t even want to think about how far behind we would be right now if it weren’t for you. Right now, we have a chance of making it to Orynth in time. You gave us that chance.” Turning away, Aelin surveyed the assembled group before nodding in approval. “Good, you’re all here. Let’s plan.”

***

In the ensuing planning and discussions that lasted for several hours, Acacia kept her mouth shut and let the others speak. They had so much more experience than her that she felt immediately out of place and wished she had left when she had a chance. Nobody said a word to her, not even Fenrys, although he did send her encouraging glances from time to time. 

It had already been decided that a rukhin warrior named Borte would fight above Aelin in the skies. The royals, Kashin, Sartaq and Hasar, only tried to argue with a wild-eyed Borte for a moment before conceding. There would be no swaying her on the matter. Despite the severity of the situation, Acacia couldn’t help but find herself admiring the young warrior and her fearlessness. She made a mental note to seek her out later and drag all the stories of her homeland out of her as possible. After the war, of course. 

Aelin and Rowan instructed Sartaq to call back all of the ruk scouts currently flying ahead. They wouldn’t risk any small surprise or advantage over Morath. The positions of the army were then decided: Dorian and Chaol leading the men from the Fangs, the khagante royals leading the left flank, and Aelin, Rowan, Fenrys, Lorcan and Gavriel leading the charge in the center. 

Acacia’s gut twisted when Fenrys and Gavriel started a side discussion about the weapons they would use, bow and arrows versus swords. She wanted to scream at Fenrys to stay behind with the archers, but she knew he would be insulted and never agree. Besides, if she planned to join the battle herself, how could she possibly ask him to stay behind, especially when she knew how he would die protecting and fighting for his queen. 

Her own part in the battle had not been mentioned at all. She wondered if she had been forgotten, or if they all thought her inexperience would make her too much of a liability for them and didn’t know how to tell her, even after all the training she had done with Fenrys. 

After they had gone over every single thing that could go wrong and formulated a plan to counter it, the group slowly dispersed until only she, Aelin, Fenrys, and Rowan remained. Aelin blew out a long breath and Acacia imagined she was trying to release all the stress she had seen slowly building up in the tense muscles along her back. Those damning turquoise eyes closed for several seconds, before flaring open with a renewed vigor.

Without thinking, Acacia glanced over at Rowan and saw the male’s face tense with worry she knew he probably didn’t mean to show. His eyes were latched onto Aelin, tracking every one of her movements. She just has to hold on, Acacia wanted to tell him. She only has to get through this last battle, then everything will be alright. But who was she to make such promises?

So instead of voicing promises she couldn’t keep, Acacia cleared her throat and caught Aelin’s attention. 

“What about me?”

“Yes,” Aelin drawled, “what about you?

“I want to fight. I’m going to fight,” Acacia insisted, holding the queen’s gaze steadily, trying to push every ounce of conviction she had into those words. They couldn’t tell her no now. “Just tell me where to go, and I will fight.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Fenrys duck his head, fists clenched tightly on his reins. He can be as unhappy as he wants, she thought, remembering how ardently he had tried to persuade her to stay out of harm’s way. I’m doing this.

Aelin tipped her head to the side, golden hair obscuring half her face before running her eyes up and down Acacia like she would size up an opponent. Acacia distractedly wondered what the queen saw when she looked at her with those assassin eyes, wondered if she would even register as a threat to her or anybody else she would face in battle. She bared her teeth and tried to make herself look fierce before realizing what she was doing, then quickly stopped, feeling ridiculous. 

“This whole night I’ve been trying to think what to do with you, but now I’ve made up my mind. I want you with me.”

The males’ heads whipped around to stare at their queen, surprise and shock etched into every crevice of their faces. Fenrys was the first to voice his displeasure.

“Aelin, are you sure that’s a smart idea? As soon as you step onto that battlefield, there is going to be a target on you and anyone who is around you.”

“Besides,” Rowan added, “you’ll need to be focused. I don’t want you…you don’t need the...” He cut himself off, and shot Acacia a look that was equal parts worry, embarrassment, and guilt.

“What he’s trying to say is that you don’t need to be babysitting me and watching your own back at the same time. I would only hinder you by fighting with you, not help.” Acacia finished Rowan’s sentence, and he nodded to her gratefully.

However, Aelin only dismissed their concerns with a wave of her hand. “I’ve seen what our Lady of the Forest can do with flames. She can help me pretend that I’ve still got my magic, keep up the illusion that I’m just as powerful as I used to be to deceive Erawan for as long as possible.”

“You are just as powerful still,” Acacia thought she heard Rowan mutter, the words almost lost under Fenrys’ continued protests. 

“She hasn’t even been training for five days! Aelin, I’m sorry, but how is she going to survive when she’s thrown in among hungry Valg soldiers? She won’t last more than a minute!”

Fenrys’ words sliced through her, leaving behind a sharp, hollow pain. Surely he really didn’t think she’d only last a minute, right? He was just exaggerating, trying to protect her because he cared about her.

“If Aelin wants me with her, then that’s where I’ll be,” she told him, attempting to cover up the hurt in her voice with decisiveness.

But Fenrys was shaking his head, even reached over to grasp her arm tightly, painfully. “Acacia, you don’t understand.” His pupils were blown, those onyx eyes saturated with desperation. “You think you know what you’re going to face, but you’re wrong. You have no idea how bloody and terrible things will be. They want Aelin dead, and they are going to want you dead as well.”

“That’s kind of the point of war, isn’t it? Everyone wants to kill each other!” she exploded. She really didn’t mean to lose her temper, not when the panic in his eyes matched the terror crushing her ribs, trying to worm its way into her heart. But she thought he had understood, damnit. She needed to fight for something, needed to make a stand for Oakwald, her new home. “Why is it okay for you all to be so willing to die for this cause, but not me?”

“Because you have no training—”

“YOU TRAINED ME!”

“Barely! We barely scratched the surface of what you need to know and—”

“Alright,” Aelin cut in, clapping her hands twice in front of Fenrys’ face. Acacia was sure if he wasn’t so upset at her he would be offended by the gesture. “Here’s what’s going to happen. Acacia and only Acacia will make up her mind on the matter. I want her with me. She wants to fight with me. Fenrys, Rowan, I understand your concerns, but this is how it’s going to be.” The queen levelled a glare at both males, reminding them who was in charge. “Tensions are running high right now. You two go talk it over, and Rowan and I will do the same.” 

Fenrys galloped away into the forest without a word and Acacia slowly followed after. She tracked him down without a problem, tying his horse to a tree branch a good distance away from the others. He kept his head turned away when she dismounted next to him, studiously staring off into the night like he could see the surrounding area. She wondered if he could, with those wolf eyes. The sparse moonlight fought its way down through the tangled branches overhead, giving the woods an eerie glow. She’d lost track of time during the meeting and had no clue if it was closer to midnight or five in the morning. Right now, she really didn’t care. 

She slid a hand down his arm, twining their fingers together tightly and refusing to let go. “Talk to me.”

He just shook his head, fiercely continuing his nighttime vigil. 

“Please,” she begged, maneuvering in front of him in an attempt to make him look at her. If he just saw her, talked to her, everything would be okay. But even standing on her tip toes, his eyes remained focused over the top of her head. 

Floundering, at a loss for what to do, Acacia reached down into her chest and desperately searched for the beginning of the bond she had felt grow between them. She had ignored it so far, leaving him to decide their next steps, but now they were running out of time. Finding the glowing ball resting just above her heart, she frantically grasped it only for it to continuously slip through her fingers: out of reach and unavailable. Just like her mate.

Frustration came out of nowhere, building up into a boiling rage that exploded out of her. Letting out a feral growl, she shoved his chest with a strength she didn’t know she possessed. “Talk to me!” she screamed.

Fenrys stumbled backwards, catching his balance quickly before glaring at her. “What the fuck, Acacia?”

“Why won’t you talk to me?” she demanded, stepping closer to push him again.

Reading her mind, Fenrys quickly snatched her wrists and held them tightly to his chest so she couldn’t get any leverage. “There’s nothing to say,” he snarled into her face, teeth flashing in a beam of moonlight. “You’ve already made up your mind and nothing I say is going to change it.”

“Why are you so mad at me? You knew I planned on fighting! If it was going to upset you this much, why didn’t you just refuse to train me?”

He clenched her wrists harder in silent fury, and she knew she’d have bruises later. But he was talking.

“It didn’t bother me then.”

“Bullshit, this didn’t just pop up out of nowhere.”

He rolled his eyes. “Fine. It didn’t bother me as much then.”

“Why does it bother you now?” She asked gently, barely daring to breathe. She weighed her options and risked asking the next question. “What’s changed?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do.”

“I don’t know!” He yelled, throwing her hands away and then running his own roughly through his hair, yanking so hard she was afraid he’d tear some out. “I don’t know, okay? We had sex, and it was great, and normally that’s fine, that’s it but then…” He groaned, covering his face with his hands and bowing his head. “But then it actually meant something,” he whispered, so softly even her Fae ears strained to hear him. “And I’m looking at you now, and I’m scared. I’m scared of what this is between us, and I’m scared that we’re going to go off to battle and you’re going to die before we can figure it out. Somehow, you ended up meaning something to me. I don’t want to lose you.” 

This was the wrong time to be happy, but Acacia could hardly contain her delight at hearing his words. Golden honey warmth rushed through her veins in place of blood, she had a balloon for a heart and butterflies for a stomach. Now. Now was the perfect time to tell him they were mates. One trembling step after another, she closed the distance between them.

“Fenrys,” she breathed, fingers caressing the side of his face, stubble sending delicious shivers down her spine. “I have something to tell you. What this is between us—”

“You feel it too, right?” He set his hand over her heart, the other arm snaking around her hips to draw her close. “You feel it, when I touch you?”

“Yes,” she gasped, “It’s—”

“And you feel it, when I do this?” He sucked her earlobe into his mouth, hot breath brushing her skin and making her squirm in his arms. She tried to push away and get some distance between them so she could tell him, but he tightened his arms and refused to let her get away.

“You insist on fighting. Fine. But you better make it out alive or I swear to the gods above I will hunt you into the next life and make you regret it. Do you understand?”

“Nothing is going to happen to me,” she gasped, fingers digging tightly into his arms for support. She wasn’t sure she could stand on her own if he let go.

“It better not,” he growled into her ear. Suddenly, he whipped her around, so she was pressed up against a tree, bark digging almost painfully into her back. It seemed to be a favorite position of his, she noticed. “I may not have any say in whether or not you fight,” he continued, moving impossibly closer so their bodies aligned completely, “but what I can do is fuck you so hard you’ll be thinking about me the whole time. Make you want more so you walk off that battlefield alive and in one piece.”

She couldn’t help it: a groan escaped her lips and her whole body tingled with the promise of upcoming pleasure.

“Do you want that?” he whispered.

“Yes,” she breathed, “I want you.”

“Good,” was all he said, before kissing her thoroughly. Drawing back, he smirked at her before turning her around so her back was to him. He ran his hands down her back, over her bottom and squeezed. “Take your pants off,” he commanded.

She didn’t hesitate in following his instructions, ignoring the chilling bite of the snowy nighttime air. Fenrys slipped a finger between her legs and let out a satisfied noise when he found her already wet and ready for him.

“You’re too easy,” he teased, nudging her legs apart. She heard rustling fabric, and within seconds felt his tip pressed against her opening. Her breath caught in her throat, and she pushed backwards against him. “That’s it, baby” he encouraged. Fenrys pulled her hips back and pressed a hand on her back until she was bent over, hands gripping the trunk of the tree for stability.

“Told you I’d take you like this,” he whispered in her ear, the sound of his voice rough and arousing. She opened her mouth to reply, but only a rush of strangled air came out as he sunk deep inside her. He felt just as amazing as the first time, maybe even better with the new angle allowing deeper access. 

Fenrys gave her a few seconds to adjust, wrapping a hand full of her bright curls, before he began to move. The very first stroke hit a spot deep inside her that forced a yelp out of her, and she gripped the tree so tightly she felt her nails crack as he continued, each stroke harder than the one before. 

“You’re not going to forget me, are you?” he growled, the question punctuated with a particularly forceful pump of his hips. 

“No,” Acacia whimpered, relishing the drag and pull of skin against skin. She looked over her shoulder to meet his eyes, finding them glazed over with sex and passion. “I’m yours, Fenrys.”

“Fuck,” he stuttered, hand fisting tighter in her hair. “You’re mine, baby.” The words sent her over the edge, and he followed seconds later, his lips mouthing inaudible words against the skin of her neck. When he turned her around to hold her tightly against his chest, she felt the bond between them glow. 

***

They halted when the last of the trees melted into the foothills that bordered the edge of Theralis’s plain. The dawn met them with taunting bursts of mercury light, echoing the blood that was about to spill. 

Acacia maneuvered her way to the front of the line, where Aelin had her head tilted back in a staring contest with the rising sun. She laid a hand on the queen’s forearm and asked her to wait, to pause just a moment before they left to meet their doom. Aelin acquiesced without question, although Rowan stared at her curiously. 

Ignoring the male, Acacia dismounted and took several steps back into the forest. Her home. Which she might not return to. Shaking her head to dispel the negative thoughts, she quickly formed a flower, the petals a soft glowing pink in defiance of the blood-red sky. She lifted the flower to her lips but stopped when she saw him waiting a few steps away. Mournful eyes met hers, and no words were needed.

Aelin held her breath as they approached, quickly sliding off her horse to meet Acacia and the Lord of the North. 

“You came back,” she said, bowing her head. “Thank you.”

Fixing ancient eyes on the young queen, the great white stag lowered his head and then knelt before her. Aelin’s eyes flickered to Acacia in surprise, and Acacia couldn’t hold back her smile as she gestured the queen forward. 

Riding the Lord of the North, clad in gilded armor, battle-crown blazing just as bright as the flame between his antlers, Aelin looked like a fairytale come to life, a heroine come to slay the giant and restore peace to the land. Men knelt as she made her way to the front of the line, and even Dorian and Chaol inclined their heads to her. Rowan glowed with fierce pride.

Fenrys helped Acacia back onto her horse, then tenderly brushed a stray curl behind her ear. 

“Are you ready?”

“Not quite.” She craned her head, searching for Elide. Finding the young woman several feet behind, she made her way over and stopped beside her horse.

Acacia leaned forward and gently tucked the flower into her hair. “Thank you for being my friend,” was all she said. Elide squeezed her hands in return, and that was enough.

She returned to her place in line, next to her mate and the love of her life and let all her love for him shine freely in the smile she offered. “I am ready now.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a mix of Acacia's and Fenrys' POV. For this chapter, I borrowed a lot from KOA, and everything I used belongs to Sarah J Maas.

◊◊◊

This was it. They were here. Weeks of travel, days of marching, hours of fretful sleep, minutes full of imagined glory, fleeting seconds of rest. They were finally here. 

Paused on top of the last and highest hill, Fenrys stared helplessly down into the chaos awaiting them. It was worse than he had imagined. They had assumed Morath’s army would be large and outnumber their own, but somehow seeing the exact number of Erawan’s soldiers hammering away at Orynth’s walls, the swarms of ilken and Ironteeth witches pouring bloody rain out of the sky and staining the Florine river an oily black, shocked him. Did they even have a chance?

Fenrys inhaled sharply and commanded his mind to switch over into survival mode. They were here to win and to reclaim their home. He began assessing the field below them, making mental notes of the weak areas in Morath’s army, the best places to strike. His eyes narrowed as he took in Orynth’s defenses. 

“They’re almost through the western gate,” he murmured. 

“The Crochans fight at the city walls,” Gavriel replied, motioning towards the bright flashes of red pressed up against the walls. They were holding their ground, but barely. They really had come not a moment too soon. 

As if reading his thoughts, Aelin twisted towards Lorcan. “Sound the call,” she ordered, voice tight and unflinching. She would not be sparing precious seconds—seconds that could be used to chop off Valg heads—with a rousing and inspiring speech for the troops. 

Fenrys watched, gut twisted painfully, as Lorcan raised the horn to his lips, filled his lungs with air, and blew. Others were waiting for his signal, and at the sound, more horns joined in the cry for vengeance. The ground shook beneath his feet, and the great bellowing note raced into his ears, through his veins and sang its vicious melody right to his heart. Nerves, excitement, and shivers slipped away until all that was left was a raging calmness and the intense desire to kill. This was what he was trained for, what he was good at. Fenrys tightened his grip on his sword and settled into his bones. He was ready.

The horns blew again, and Fenrys allowed himself one last look at Acacia. She was mounted beside Aelin, hair tightly braided back in the ruhkin style, eyes fixed intensely on the battlefield. Feeling his gaze, she glanced his way and offered him a fierce smile, teeth bared and eyes wild. He knew then that she would make it out alive. 

A flash of light on metal caught his attention, and he turned away to see Aelin thrusting Goldryn into the sky, the ruby in the pommel glowing brightly from her magic. He felt an answering surge of magic flow from Acaica, and the glow turned into an even brighter explosion of light. 

The horns blew a third and final time, and Fenrys raised his voice to join in the rallying cry that accompanied it. Let their enemies hear the song of their fury and set their bones trembling. He kept his eyes trained on Aelin, waiting for the signal.

When a spiral of flame leaped out of Goldryn, attacking the sky, they charged. Seconds turned to minutes, to hours, to days to weeks. He couldn’t say how long the charge went on for, only knew that the front line could not break. As they approached the front lines of Morath’s army, magical shields locked into place, Fenrys sought out Acaica one last time, only catching a glimpse of her braid flying in the wind, before they sliced into the soldiers waiting for them and the screams began.

***

Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck. The screams were so loud, there was so much blood too much blood, who was going to heal all these people? Did they have enough healers? Stay close to Aelin, keep your flames burning, watch her blind spots. Oh fuck, someone is coming at me. Aelin killed them. Oh god, they’re dead, that is their BRAIN on the ground, on Aelin’s sword. Oh fuck, here’s another one, blast them with magic, remember what Dorian and Fenrys taught you? Remember what they taught you. Oh gods oh gods, that was blood on her face, dark stinking retched blood oh gods she was going to puke she was going to—get it together, get it together. Stay close to Aelin, keep your flames burning, watch her blind spots. Stay close to Aelin, keep your flames going, watch her blind spots.

◊◊◊

His muscles already burned, but he kept swinging his sword, marking each target before he precisely executed each one. His vision was stained red, he might never get the reek of Valg blood out of his nose. Maybe he’d smell it in his sleep. One after the other, his enemies fell before him. 

They fell back into their old fighting patterns as naturally as they gulped in the putrid air: Rowan to his left, Lorcan next to Rowan. Rowan shouted something to him about Aelin, and Fenrys craned his head to look for his queen. It took several seconds to locate her, way ahead of them, a trail of fallen enemies behind her. Relief swept through him when he saw Acacia still standing, appearing uninjured, matching Aelin stroke for stroke, flames still burning bright. However, his relief was fleeting when he realized exactly how far away the pair had strayed from the cadre. Rowan, thinking the same thing, urged his horse forward to catch up with his mate, and Fenrys and Lorcan followed swiftly behind. 

Soldier after soldier collapsed before them: there was nothing and no one who could stand in their way. His brothers, once again fighting side by side, the full force of their strength and potential unleashed. Aelin had gifted them this: the chance to fight, without restraint, for their home and for their family. In-between decapitated Morath enemies, Fenrys glanced over at Rowan and Lorcan with a surge of fondness. Lorcan caught him staring and pulled a face at him, rolling his eyes before sending out a dark wave of his power ahead of him, soldiers dropping to the ground like flies swarming carrion. Not to be outdone, Fenrys quickly dispatched the three Valg before him with effortless maneuvers and motioned his horse forward to catch up with Rowan. They needed to protect their queen.

***

“My magic is draining.”

Acacia shook her head to clear the ringing in her ears, left behind from a blow she had taken to the head. Aelin had stabbed the man through the heart before he could get in another hit and pulled Acacia into an upright position on her horse with one hand while fending off another soldier with the other. After she dispatched him, Aelin leaned in close. 

“I said, my magic is draining. I need you to cover more for me. I have to conserve my power.”

The words barely registered: she was too distracted by the blood and gore covering Aelin and the Lord of the North. Black, blue, red. Blood of every color coated her, soaked her golden hair and the stag’s snow-white coat. It rained down from the sky, it spurted out of wounds, it even leaked out of her own skin where a plethora of cuts oozed. Her gaze turned from Aelin to arms, watching her blood trickle down to her hands, imagining she could see her life force slip away with it.

“Hey. Hey!” Aelin shook her, grabbing her by the shoulders and rattling her brain back and forth inside her skull. “Snap out of it. Are you with me? Did you hear what I said?” Curses, ugly dirty words, filtered out of the queen’s mouth. “Acacia, I need you to focus.” 

With a heaving effort, Acacia dragged her eyes back to Aelin’s. Focus. Focus on her eyes, see the gold? You’re fine, you’re fine. 

“Your magic is draining. You need me to cover you,” she repeated, the words coming out strangled and deformed. “I can do that.” 

“Good. We need to bring the siege towers down.” Aelin lifted her head, and Acacia did the same, trying to pick out Borte among the swarm of flying creatures above them, just in time to see six Ironteeth wyverns and riders slam into the ruks. Their aerial guard scattered, and a blast shook the earth as a wyvern and ruk crashed into the ground, their screams grating her ears.

Aelin let loose another stream of curses and tightly grabbed Acacia’s arm, directing her attention back to the sky. The largest wyvern Acacia had seen so far was heading directly towards them, an ugly mottled purple and grey, giant maw dripping blood between its fangs.   
Acacia froze in terror, unable to move. Aelin sent a blast of flame towards the oncoming wyvern, deterring the creature for a few precious seconds as it banked out of reach of the fire. 

“Burn it!” she heard Aelin scream at her. “Send your magic at it! Come on, Acaica!”

But the wyvern was coming in too fast, everything was happening too quickly for her to think. If she could just think for one second, she could—The Lord of the North reared up onto his hind legs, approaching for impact. Aelin leaped from his back and slapped his flank with the flat of her sword.

“Go,” Acacia saw her mouth. She hadn’t even thought about him, about what it would mean for Oakwald if he were to die here. She needed to protect him, needed to get him out of here safely. But Acacia could only stare at him, distraught, as he ignored Aelin’s instructions to run and simply lowered his head as the wyvern barreled towards them. 

“Shield him,” Aelin screamed at her, jolting her out of her daze. Acacia sent an orb of magic around the stag as Aelin stepped in front of them both, shield up and sword angled, bracing herself for death. Acacia turned to face the wyvern; now so close she could feel the hot blast of air from the monster’s jaws. They were going to die, all because she had frozen in fear. Aelin was going to die, and with her, the hope of her mate, and the hope of the kingdom for a better future. All because she was a coward. 

She did the only thing she could think of. The flaming shield around the Lord of the North grew to encompass Aelin as well, and Acacia shoved the queen away, as far out of the path of the wyvern as she could. 

“I’m sorry,” was all she said, before facing the wyvern head on. Aiming her sword in one hand and forming a writhing ball of flame in the other, she sent every bit of love she could down to the glowing ball in her chest, hoping Fenrys could feel it and would understand. She braced herself for death, for the ripping pain of fangs tearing her apart, and released her flames at the wyvern. 

Only for the flames to meet open air where the wyvern once was, its head now smashing to the ground beneath the spiked tail of another attacking wyvern with emerald eyes. 

Acacia heard Aelin’s sharp intake of breath as the riderless wyvern whirled on the gaping Ironteeth witch, still astride her now beheaded mount. With one slamming sweep of its tail, the green-eyed wyvern impaled the witch on its spikes—and sent her body hurling across the field. 

A flash of light momentarily forced Acacia to shield her eyes, her head still whirling at the quick turn of events that had spared her life. When she opened her eyes, she realized that perhaps her death had only been delayed. A giant ghost leopard was now bounding towards them. She raised her sword once more, summoning her flames into her hand like Dorian had taught her. Acacia had no idea how to fight a ghost leopard, but she supposed she was about to find out or die trying.

“Wait!” Aelin called out, knocking the sword out of Acacia’s hand before she had the chance to attack. “She’s on our side.”

Acacia could only watch in disbelief as the two hurtled towards each other and the queen opened her arms wide in invitation. She flung her arms around the leopard, its massive body almost knocking her to the ground. “Well met, my friend,” Aelin whispered hoarsely, clinging tightly to the animal. 

Suddenly a horn blared, a cry for help coming from the direction of the city, and interrupting the two’s embrace. Aelin grinned fiercely, first at the ghost leopard and then at Acacia. “Shall we?”

◊◊◊

Rowan was becoming desperate, and it was starting to rub off on Fenrys as well. They could no longer see Aelin or Acacia, and it required a monumental effort to subdue the rising panic that threatened to consume him. 

Beside him, Lorcan pointed to something off in the distance. “Look!”

It was the Lord of the North, bounding across the battlefield, aiming for Oakwald. The stag was alone: no sign of his current rider or the Lady of the Forest. Fenrys fought even harder to clamp down on his emotions. “Where are they?” he shouted, wiping black blood out of his burning eyes to better scan his surroundings. If something had happened to either one of them…

Lorcan pointed once more, this time to the city walls by the southern gate. A ghost leopard, Lysandra, tore through the swarm of Morath soldiers and by her side raced a golden-armored warrior and a slight figure, brilliant red braid whipping back and forth as she sprinted to keep up with her companions. 

They were headed towards the siege towers, Fenrys realized, and the males watched, hardly daring to breathe as the three figures reached the towers and charged up the ramp. Lysandra went first, ripping the soldiers apart and clearing a path for Acacia and Aelin, who swiftly killed those Lysandra left behind. It was either minutes or hours before they reached the small catapult near its top, Fenrys wasn’t sure. 

Breath caught in his throat, he watched as Lysandra and Acacia fought off the men at the top while Aelin began pushing the rungs lining the catapult’s wheeled base, turning it away from the castle and towards the siege tower to its left. 

He heard Rowan let out a huff of amusement when they all noticed Ansel of Briarcliff atop the second tower, turning that catapult toward the third and final tower. As if they’d had all afternoon to plan it, Ansel’s and Aelin’s swords were synchronously brought down onto the catapults, releasing the contained boulders, which smashed into the siege towers beside them.

The two towers began to topple, and Fenrys’ heart beat wildly in his chest: they were still on the crumpling siege tower. Rowan swore as Aelin, leading Acacia, leaped onto the arm of the catapult. The two clung together, keeping their balance, until Lysandra shifted into her wyvern form and plucked them up in one taloned foot, grabbing and ripping the catapult from the tower with the other. 

The final tower crashed to the ground, squishing beneath it a horde of Morath soldiers who had been attempting to penetrate the southern gate.

Fenrys was sure all three of them resembled owls, wide-eyed and blinking in disbelief at what they had just witnessed. A fierce glow of pride streaked through him at what his queen and Acacia had just accomplished. 

“That’s where they are,” Fenrys said, needlessly answering his own question from earlier. Lorcan cursed in approval.

“Let’s go,” Rowan ordered, and led the way back into the fighting. 

***

Her breath rasped in her ears: she couldn’t seem to get it under control. She fumbled beside her for the waterskin she had set on the ground moments ago and took a long drink. The musty water ran down her throat and she accidently drew in a breath that caused her to start choking on the water, coughing it back up in gurgling bits. 

Aelin slapped her on the back, and stole the waterskin from her, drowning the rest of its contents in seconds. They were resting, but only long enough for Ansel’s arm to be fixed by a healer. Acacia tried and failed to not be disturbed that Aelin had chosen a dead wyvern as their resting spot. 

Acacia had never heard of Ansel of Briarcliff before, and immediately disliked the girl’s swaggering attitude and flamboyant style. However, when Ansel saved her from being impaled on a Morath sword after the man had given her a vicious cut to the thigh, Acacia decided she could make allowances for her personality. She was a friend of Aelin’s and had brought her people to fight for their cause. 

The battle had shifted. Somehow, they were winning. That is, until the newly approaching army reached them. Aelin had told her who she suspected was among the oncoming soldiers. Erawan. And Maeve. Acacia honestly wasn’t sure how she wasn’t pissing her pants right now. She figured she was too worn out to react properly. 

Acacia had no idea where Fenrys was, or if he was even alive. There was no sight of him out on the field, and she lacked the connection Aelin had with Rowan to know if he was still breathing. She tried to tell herself that if she had made it this far without serious injury, then Fenrys would be okay too. 

Beside her, the healer had finished wrapping Ansel’s arm and had turned to inspect Aelin. She had already bandaged the sword cut Acacia had taken to the thigh, the wound deep and bleeding profusely. The healer had said she was lucky it hadn’t cut an artery, or she would have bled out where she stood. Acacia decidedly removed that image from her mind. 

The queen just waved the healer away. “Go help someone who needs it.” 

“We need to get into the city, before they shut the gate,” Ansel groaned, flexing her arm to test the strength of the healer’s work. Seemingly satisfied, she leaned her head back against the wyvern’s hide beneath them. 

“We do,” Aelin agreed and staggered to her feet. The queen swayed slightly before righting herself, and grabbed the reins of a passing warrior on horseback, halting her companion as well.

“Take them back to the city, please,” Aelin requested, gesturing towards the two red-haired females on the ground. “They’re too injured to walk back.”

Acacia protests clashed with Ansel’s. “I’m fine,” she insisted, gathering her strength to stand up, black spots swirling before her eyes. She couldn’t leave Aelin alone out here. She had to keep her flames going, watch the queen’s blind spots. Aelin’s magic was drained and she could barely stand up straight. She needed Acacia.

Before she could stand up, Aelin clapped a hand on her shoulder and forced her back down. “You’ve done more than enough. You both have,” she said, eyes flickering to Ansel’s limp form. She turned back to the riders. “Take them,” she commanded again. 

Ignoring her words of protest, the two riders gently lifted her up and over the back of one of the horses, cautious of her bandaged leg. They did the same with Ansel. 

Acacia could only watch Aelin’s figure grow smaller and smaller as the horses carried them away, towards the city gates. She tried to ignore the feeling that this would be the last time she saw the queen of Terrasen. 

◊◊◊

Maeve was here. Maeve was here, and Gavriel was dead. He didn’t need to look down before the walls to see her, Aelin a living ball of flame attacking Erawan and his old queen. Fenrys had known before she even stepped foot onto the battlefield that she was coming: he could feel her darkness leeching away at his soul, attempting to worm its way into his mind and steal from him everything that he was, everything that he had fought so hard to keep. He would not let her. Not this time. 

He wanted to be down there with his queen, tearing Maeve apart limb from limb. But Rowan needed his help. Morath had put in place a siege ladder and soldiers were currently spilling over the wall, swords bristling. One man came at him and all it took from Fenrys—now in wolf form—was a distracted swipe of a paw to shred him to pieces. Lorcan’s dark wind danced at his side, eliminating the other Morath soldiers who had appeared behind him. 

Fenrys turned to glance at Rowan, his question mirrored on Lorcan’s face: They’d had a plan. Would they go to Aelin’s aid?

Rowan glanced longingly towards his mate, standing alone against Erawan and Maeve. Fenrys saw him swallow, hard, before turning back towards the wall and the screaming coming from the inhabitants inside the city. “We swore an oath to our queen and this court,” he snarled, face set in determination. “We will not break it.”

Fenrys shifted back into his Fae form, and had only a moment to briefly wonder where Acacia was, before they returned to the fighting. This time, it was different than before. Erawan had brought with him beasts Fenrys had never seen before, and never wished to see again. Yet, they fought them all, shoulder to shoulder, swing matching swing. 

Every movement, every calculated kill was punctuated with his grief. Gavriel was dead. A soldier fell before him. Gavriel had died, protecting his son. Another swing, and a hideous creature died, never to see the light of day again. He honed his grief into a weapon, refusing to let it cripple him or send him to his knees. The time for that would come later. He would say goodbye to his old friend, his old mentor, later, once they had won this war. But for now, all he could do was push the weight of his grief into his sword and use it to chop down the enemies who had taken his friend from him.

The atmosphere changed, without warning. One glance at Rowan and Lorcan confirmed that they had felt it too. Something was wrong: Aelin needed help. Rowan shifted into his hawk form and sailed over the wall. Bristling, Lorcan and Fenrys looked at each other. “We finish this together,” Fenrys snarled, before shifting once more and leaping off the battlements into the city streets below. He didn’t look behind him to see if Lorcan followed. He knew that he would. 

The time had come. They would finish Maeve together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all this chapter was DIFFICULT to write. I didn't want to drag out the battle scenes too much since I want this story to be more focused on Acacia's and Fenrys' relationship HOWEVER I thought the battle was too important to just skip over. Also, I'm very excited for the next chapter, since it's going to be about Fenrys facing Maeve and no offense, but I didn't think SJM gave Fenrys all the credit he deserved for his role in obliterating Maeve sooooo I'm going to make that chapter entirely in his perspective and what he's thinking when he's facing Maeve. YIKES, lots of pressure.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenrys' POV

◊◊◊  
Aelin faltered: Maeve’s icy hands of darkness were wrapped around her throat. Fenrys arrived just in time to hear Maeve taunting her, savoring the slow unspooling of her thread of victory.  
“You may be asking yourself why I’d ever think you’d agree to it. What I might have against you.” Her low laugh threw a torrent of frigid water down his spine. “The very things that you seek to protect—that’s what I shall destroy, should you defy me. What is most precious to you. And when I have finished doing that, you will kneel.”

To emphasize her words, Maeve whipped a curtain of darkness at Aelin—only to meet Rowan’s forceful barricade of ice-cold wind. His friend offered a hand to Aelin, to help her rise, all the while keeping his eyes trained on Maeve, his teeth bared in a snarl that threated every kind of violence imaginable in return for the harm caused to his mate. 

Looking at Aelin—curled on the ground, retching and clutching her throat, hungrily sucking in air—Fenrys felt the slow culmination of rage that had been boiling up inside him ever since he returned to Doranelle to find Connall practically chained to Maeve’s bed finally spill over. Images flashed before him, each scene adding more fuel to his writhing fury: Aelin’s torture, her scarred body torn open again and again; the smug look on Maeve’s face right before she ordered Connall to stab himself with the knife; blood, no longer warm, slowly seeping into his skin as he knelt before Maeve. All of the pain she had put him through, all the suffering his friends and comrades had borne because of the evil, disgusting woman standing before him. It needed to end, before she could hurt anyone else. He needed to end it, now.

Fangs bared, fur bristling, he charged at Maeve, going right for her pale throat. He pictured it in his mind as he flew through the air: black blood coating his fur as her life’s blood spurted from the wound.

A shout came from Rowan: “Fenrys, stop!”

But it was too late. 

A whip of darkness rose to meet his attack, and suddenly his face was on fire. Blinding pain laced from one side of his face to the other. This can’t be it, he thought. It doesn’t end like this.  
He struggled to his feet, the world tipping upside down before righting itself once more. He lifted his head, ready to launch another attack when he was hit again. Oh gods, his face. It was ripped in half, oh gods, she flayed the skin completely, she took his eyes out, he was blind, oh gods the pain. He didn’t try to get up again, couldn’t move a single muscle as the pain enveloped him from head to tail. All he could manage to do was blink in an attempt to clear the blood out of his eyes. How long had it taken for Maeve to incapacitate him? Half a minute? A few seconds?

Just as he could finally see again, his ears caught Aelin’s whispered warning, her voice little more than a rasp. “Run!”

Run? Fenrys turned his head to look at Aelin when a wave of blackness enveloped him. And then the screaming started.

◊◊◊

One blink of his eyes, and suddenly he was home. Or, not home anymore, but what he had used to call home for the majority of his life. Cold stone bit harshly into his knees as he knelt on the veranda in Doranelle. Connall was standing above him, the cocky smug they both shared stretching across his face.

“You know,” his twin said, lazily brushing a stray strand of black hair out of his face, “everything that happened to me is because of you.”

Bile rose in his throat: he was going to throw up. Here was his twin, the person he’d loved with his entire being, reaffirming the thoughts that had been haunting him for months now. Connall was dead, and it was all his fault. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Sorry, but would you change it? Was I the sacrifice you were willing to make in order to get what you wanted?”

Fenrys quickly shook his head, opened his mouth to deny his brother’s accusations, but he was suddenly trapped in his wolf form. He couldn’t speak.

“You took everything I wanted,” Connall continued. “Everything. Did you even mourn me? Did it even matter?”

Did it even matter? Of course it did! He tried desperately to force the words out of his mouth, but this tongue did not know the language. Of course I mourned you, he wanted to say. I wanted to take the knife and stab it right through my own heart after you died, rather than continue living without you. Do you really think I meant for all this to happen? You’re my brother, the other half of my soul. I’ve been so lost without you, Connall. Please, forgive me. I’ve been so lost, I don’t know who I am or what my purpose is without you.

The only thing that came out of his mouth was a small, pained whine, so soft it could have been mistaken for a wisp of wind filtering through the veranda. 

“I am dead because of you. I suffered because of you,” Connall breathed, fixing Fenrys with a look that took the remaining fragments of his heart and shredded them into pieces too small to ever be put back together again. “And I will never forget it.”

Please. The word burned on his tongue. Please— 

◊◊◊

His surroundings shifted, colors and shapes blurring into one another and then reforming. When the world made sense again, Fenrys found himself in the middle of a battlefield. Wyverns roared overhead, and the sound of steel meeting steel crashed in his ears. He spun in a circle, trying to find the other members of his cadre. Somehow, he must have been separated from them.

A flash of red, to his right. He turned, expecting to see one of those witches who wore the red cloaks. His heart stopped when he recognized Acacia, hair whipping around her face where it had come undone from its braid. She held a sword in one hand, but it was dragging on the ground as if she were too tired to hold it up any longer. An enemy soldier was coming towards her, his own sword held high and ready to strike. 

“Acacia!” he screamed, sprinting towards her. “Acacia, to your left!”

Her eyes swung lazily towards him, and no sign of recognition showed on her face. He stepped in front of her at the last second possible, yanking a knife out of its sheath and slitting the man’s throat before he could swing his sword. 

Fenrys turned around and grabbed Acacia by the shoulders. “Acacia, come on,” he said, shaking her roughly. “We need to get you out of here.”

“This is all your fault,” she mumbled, swaying in his arms. 

“What? What’s my fault?” He tightened his grip on her, afraid that she would collapse and he would have to drag her away. Scanning her body up and down, he noticed a wound on her thigh that was gushing blood. “Fuck, somebody got you. We need to get you to the healers right now. Come on.” He bent his knees to pick her up. 

“Stop.” She struggled out of his arms with more strength than he thought she possessed. “If you hadn’t hunted me down in the woods that day, I wouldn’t be here. I would be safe at home and not dead. This is all your fault, Fenrys. It’s your fault that I’m dead.”

“What? Acacia, sweetheart, we need to get you to a healer—”

Blood spurted into his face. He wiped it out of his eyes, the coppery tang coating the inside of his mouth. Where had that—Oh gods. Oh gods, no. Please, no. 

The tip of a sword now pierced through the middle of her chest, wintery sun reflecting off the blade, the resulting light hitting him in the eyes and creating momentary blindness.

He sunk to his knees just in time to catch Acacia as her body collapsed. He cradled her tightly to his chest, one hand gently drawing her head back so he could look into her face. But the light had already faded from her eyes. She was dead.

A sob tore its way out of his throat, and he pressed his forehead to hers, trying to take in her scent and convince himself that this wasn’t real. “Please wake up,” he sobbed, twining his fingers through her hair. “Please baby, come on. Open your eyes for me, sweetheart.” Her violet eyes remained blank, dulled in death to a dark wine color. 

“Please wake up,” he begged, louder this time, voice breaking on each syllable. “I can’t lose you. Acacia? Acacia?” His hands frantically roamed her body, first searching her wrists, then her neck for a pulse, for any sign of life. 

A hand on his shoulder stopped him. He craned his neck to look up into his brother’s face. 

“She’s dead, Fenrys,” Connall said, voice as lifeless as the female he clutched in his arms. “She’s dead, and it’s all your fault.”

◊◊◊

He was on the veranda again. Fenrys’ arms were empty: he looked around frantically for Acacia, only to find her sitting a few feet in front of him, cross-legged in the pool of Connall’s blood. His brother lay on the floor next to her, the hilt of the knife still stuck in his chest. He wanted to go to her, move her away from Connall’s motionless form, but he was frozen in place, unable to move a muscle.   
Acacia idly dragged a fingertip through the pool of blood, swirling her finger around so the tip was evenly coated. Fenrys could only stare. 

Next to her, Connall sat up and yanked the knife out of his chest. His onyx eyes—Fenry’s eyes—were filled with disgust as he looked at his brother. “I am dead because of you,” he said. Before Fenrys could react, Connall once again plunged the knife into his heart and fell backward, the pool of blood now spreading until it lapped at the tip of Fenrys’ feet. He threw up.

Acacia simply observed, unaffected by Connall’s recent death, her finger still dragging through the blood. “It’s true,” she murmured, voice dropping into a seductive lilt. “He is dead because of you.” She held her finger up to the light, twisting it from side to side, as if inspecting it. She pursed her lips. “I’m dead because of you, too. How does that feel, Fenrys? To kill the two people you loved most in the world?”

She began drawing on the tile of the veranda, her crimson finger acting as a pen, oblivious to the way her words shattered him.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “Tell me what to do?”

“What is there to do?” she mused, continuing to sketch. “You can’t fix the past. Now, you must simply suffer.” 

“No,” he breathed. “Acacia, please—” 

“It’s too late for apologies, Fenrys,” she snapped, finally glancing up to meet his gaze. Her eyes were still the purple of old wine, the leftover drops at the bottom of a glass. She smiled. “This is all your fault.” 

Frozen, incapable of stopping her, Fenrys watched as she yanked the knife out of Connall’s chest and impaled it through her own heart. It was minutes, hours, years before he came back to himself, to realize that he was howling, his body wracked with sobs.

A fierce desire swept over him, urging him to take the knife and drive it through his heart, to slit his throat and watch as his blood merged with his brother’s and Acacia’s on the floor. He wanted to walk over the edge of the veranda and sink down into the roaring river beneath.

But that would be too quick. He deserved a slow, brutal death, full of pain and misery. And then even that wouldn’t be enough, wouldn’t be adequate punishment for what he’d done to his brother and Acacia. He’d let his brother be hidden in the shadows, had always known Connall remained in the shadows and hadn’t tried, not really, to share the light. And he’d known what Acacia would face in battle, had seen how unprepared she really was. She had no stamina, no fighting skills as a warrior. Yes, he’d fought for her to remain on the sidelines. But he hadn’t fought hard enough, hadn’t pushed enough. He’d let her march to her death. 

A sudden burn, violent and unflinching, tore through him. As if someone had shoved his shoulder into a furnace. He deserved it. He welcomed it into his heart. 

He hoped it would destroy him. 

◊◊◊

“Look at me.”

A voice interrupted his mourning, his suffering. He ignored it, refocused on the burning pain. This was what he deserved.

“Look at me.”

It came again, insistent.

“I am here, I am with you.”

A queen had said that to him, once. In their secret, silent language. During the unspeakable hours of torment, they had said that to each other. 

Not alone.

He had not been alone then, and neither had she.

The veranda in Doranelle and the bloodied snows outside of Orynth blended and flashed. 

“I am here, I am with you.” 

The tiles beneath him began to shift into melting snow, the roar of the river fading into the cacophony of battle. Seeping back into the cracks of reality, Fenrys held onto the vision for a few more seconds to read what Acacia had inked onto the tile in Connall’s blood before she died. 

His heart stopped beating…and then his body ignited with rage.

Maeve stood before him and before Aelin and Rowan, both burning with power and flaming crowns atop their foreheads. Lorcan stood firmly beside them, darkness shifting and simmering around him. Fae—so many Fae and wolves, some riding them—pouring on to the battlefield through holes in the air.

It had worked, then. Their mad plan, to be enacted when all went to hell, when they had nothing left. 

Yet Maeve’s power swelled. 

Aelin’s eyes remained upon him, anchoring him. Pulling him from that bloodied veranda. To a body trembling in pain. A face that burned and throbbed.

“I am here, I am with you.”

And Fenrys found himself blinking back. Just once.

“Yes.”

And when Aelin’s eyes moved again, he understood. 

◊◊◊

Aelin and Rowan erupted, throwing white-hot flame at Maeve, who had been waiting for their attack. The dark queen whipped twin waves of darkness towards them, which missed their targets and were beaten aside by Lorcan’s shield of dark wind.

The three struck again and again, pushing Maeve back step by step.

“I’d say,” Fenrys heard Aelin pant, “that you haven’t wronged us the most of all.”

He watched Maeve’s dark brows furrow in confusion. Fenrys simply waited, tethering and coiling up the new rage that flowed through his veins, ready for him to use. 

Aelin flung out another wall of flame that pushed Maeve back another step. “But him—oh, he has a score to settle with you.”

Maeve’s eyes went wide, and she made to turn around. But not fast enough.

He was waiting for her. 

Goldryn burned bright as Fenrys plunged it through her back, into the dark heart within. 

“This is for Connall,” he growled into her ear, her dark eyes still wide with surprise. “And for my mate.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh guys, poor Fenrys, this chapter was so sad to write :( but alsoooo he finally figured out they were mates so YAY!!! Next chapter coming soon :)


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mostly Fenrys' POV with a little bit of Acacia

◊◊◊

Fenrys thought that maybe his soul had left his body. It was the only explanation for how he was able to stand and watch so calmly, so unaffectedly, as Aelin slipped the ring onto Maeve’s finger and bits of her skin began to flake away, catching in the winter wind and drifting off to the farthest reaches of the continent. 

He was somewhere beyond his body, like his soul knew that if it had to stay trapped inside with his mind for one second longer, he would become broken beyond repair. So when Aelin looked to him, Rowan and Lorcan for approval, he didn’t feel himself blink once in response, only knew that his body controlled the motions. 

He watched from above as blood dripped down his face and landed, without a sound, into the trampled snow below. He watched as Aelin yanked Goldryn out of Maeve’s heart, and said, “We’ll pretend my last words to you were something worthy of a song.” The sword swung down, its arc illuminated for mere seconds by tendrils of flame, before severing the Valg queen’s head from her body. He watched as Aelin stabbed Goldryn through Maeve’s head, impaling the skull into the ground in the very spot his blood trickled into the earth. 

“Burn her,” Lorcan rasped. Fenrys silently agreed.

As the rest of the remaining Valg army collapsed, Rowan and Aelin turned his old queen, his old captor, into a pile of ashes. And when nothing more of her body remained, when she had truly turned back into ash and dust, Aelin yanked her sword free, lifted it high to the night sky, and let her cry of victory fill the world. 

◊◊◊

They lingered. He wasn’t sure how long they stood there, hands held empty and useless at their sides, no longer holding any weapons. There was no use for them anymore. They had won.   
He didn’t know what the others were thinking, couldn’t even begin to guess at the thoughts now racing through their minds. All he knew was that his mind was blank, erased to a thin white film of nothing. It was hollow inside, devoid of anything and everything. He thought he could hear a faint buzzing, an endless drone of silence. He liked it.

Then Aelin turned toward the southern gate to Orynth. 

As if in answer, it groaned open to meet her. 

They were going home.

Aelin took Rowan’s hand, and Lorcan and Fenrys fell in step behind them. 

He thought that maybe somebody had offered to heal him, to staunch the blood leaking from the twin wounds that slashed across his face. He also thought that maybe he had refused. He didn’t want them healed. They were a reminder: a reminder of his brother, who he had failed. A reminder of how he had allowed himself to become enslaved to the wishes and control of another, who had no interest in his wellbeing. He would never let another being control him again, not like Maeve had. He was in Aelin’s service because she had earned his loyalty, and he knew his new queen would fight for him as fiercely as he had fought for her. 

But mostly, his wounds were a reminder that he had survived. They were a reminder that he had faced evil incarnate and had come out alive. He and his family had dared to stand up for what they believed in, and they had triumphed. They were a promise of the future.

So, no. He did not want them healed.

As they neared the archway, Fenrys could see that soldiers—Terrasen soldiers—already lined either side. As they crossed the threshold, they were greeted with cheers. Their queen had come home at last. 

When they made it to the castle gates, they were stopped by Lord Darrow, arms crossed and face stone-cold, blocking their path into the castle. Little Evangeline was at his side.

Darrow spoke. “My young ward and I were told that when you went to face Erawan and Maeve, your magic was heavily depleted.”

Aelin nodded. “It was. And shall remain so forever.”

Darrow shook his head. “Why?” It didn’t surprise Fenrys that this shell of a man couldn’t understand. Aelin had been courageous and selfless in defending her home, willing to fight until her last breath to save her people. This withered old man knew nothing about sacrifice. 

His queen simply replied, “Terrasen is my home.”

Fenrys startled when the old man smiled—actually smiled—and replied, “So it is.” He bowed his head, then his body. “Welcome, your Majesty.”

He felt an ache in his chest as Evangeline winked at Aelin, and hand in hand, the two led the way into the castle.

◊◊◊

Darrow led them toward the dining hall. With every step of the way, Fenrys craned his head at the people crowding the halls, desperately trying to catch a glimpse of a small curly-haired warrior, but she was nowhere to be seen. He was too busy searching for his mate to take much notice of Aelin and Aedion’s reunion, nor when Lysandra joined them. But his attention snagged when he caught Aelin’s hushed question, “Where is he?”

Gavriel.

Aedion led them from the dining hall, down the winding passageways of the castle to a small, candlelit room.

Gavriel had been laid on a table, a wool blanket obscuring the body he knew was shredded beneath. Only his face was visible, still set in the familiar lines he knew from when Gavriel was alive. This was going to be a difficult goodbye.

Before he could step forward to mourn his old friend, Aelin walked up to where Gavriel lay on the table. 

“I wished to wait to offer you the blood oath until after your son had taken it,” she said, and her words felt like Connall driving his knife home all over again. But he couldn’t cry. He had nothing left in him except for white static.

“But I offer it to you now, Gavriel,” Aelin continued. “With honor, and gratitude, I offer you the blood oath.” She sliced open his palm, the blood taking a while to rise to the surface, and then her own arm and let three drops fall into his mouth. 

“Let the world know,” Aelin said, voice breaking, “that you are a male of honor. That you stood by your son, and this kingdom, and helped to save it.” She kissed the cold brow. “You are blood sworn to me. And you shall be buried here as such.” She stroked his cheek. “Thank you.”

Then she took Aedion by the arm and gently led him out of the room, leaving the cadre alone with their fallen brother to say farewell.

She barely made it out the door before Fenrys found he could no longer hold himself up and sank to one knee beside the table. Lorcan’s shoulder brushed his as he did the same. Rowan quickly followed and began chanting a song Fenrys had never heard before, the words ancient and full of grief and mourning. The male sang for over an hour, the song echoing off the chamber’s walls. When parts repeated, Lorcan joined in, his voice scratchy and hollow. Fenrys remained silent.

He couldn’t believe Gavriel was dead. He racked his brain to think of the last words he had said to him, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember. Gavriel had ridden off as soon as he could to find Aedion, leaving Fenrys, Rowan and Lorcan to themselves. Fenrys hadn’t gotten the chance to say goodbye, hadn’t thought he even needed to say it. They had made it through countless battles. Maybe it was arrogance, but Fenrys had honestly thought they would all make it out of this one alive. He hadn’t counted on his friend’s sacrifice. 

Eventually, Rowan’s song ended, and his voice faded away. The room filled with the inaudible sound of their grief. 

After several minutes of silence, Rowan rose from where he knelt by the table and set one hand on his friend’s chest. There was not much strength left to his voice, but he said, “You were the best of us, Gavriel. You will be forever remembered for your sacrifice and your love for your son. I will miss you, dear friend.” 

Rowan bent and gently kissed Gavriel’s forehead and left the room. 

Lorcan rose and copied Rowan’s gesture. “I will miss you,” was all he said, before he left the room as well, leaving Fenrys alone.

He rose stiffly to his feet, gripping the edges of the table for balance, the rough wood cutting into his hands. He remained holding the table as he bowed his head and tried to think of what words he could possibly say to the male who had meant so much to him. In the end, all he said was, “Thank you.” He kissed Gavriel’s brow, hating how cold the skin felt on his lips. Then he turned and exited the room, leaving Gavriel to his eternal slumber.

◊◊◊

He knocked her over by accident. Someone had pointed him in the direction of the healers, so he had shuffled himself halfway across the castle looking for her, head still submerged in the white noise playing over and over in his mind. He’d turned sharply into a corridor and ran straight into someone hustling down the hall. They stumbled back a few steps at the impact, and he reached out a hand to steady them without thinking. Violet eyes looked up in quiet outrage that immediately morphed into shock and concern.

“Fenrys,” she breathed, and at the sound of her voice he collapsed right there in the hallway. 

She kneeled down and gently took his face into her hands, carefully avoiding the wounds on his face. “Oh, Fenrys,” was all she said, stroking the hair back from his face.

He didn’t know what to say, was as speechless now as he was saying goodbye to Gavriel moments earlier. He just wrapped her in his arms and clung to her as tightly as he could. It was a few moments before he registered how her shoulders shook, and the soft hiccupping sounds she tried to muffle against his chest.

He loosened his grip on her and tilted her head back so he could look at her face. Acacia was crying, tears falling freely into the space between them.

“We did it,” he said, exhaustion sweeping over him. “We won.”

“We won. And you’re alive,” she whispered, fists clenching the material of his shirt. The fabric was stiff with dried blood. She quickly let go. 

“I’m alive,” he echoed, “And so are you.” Fenrys let go of her chin and tilted his head back against the wall behind him. He didn’t think he could hold it up on his own any longer.

“Can we just…go somewhere? To sleep? I’m so tired…”

“I think I need that too,” Acacia said, and then made to stand up. Fenrys frowned as she struggled to rise, noticing how she barely put any weight on one leg. 

“Are you injured?”

She blushed, leaning against the wall for support. “It’s nothing.” She refused to meet his eyes. “Somebody got me with their sword. It’s just a little cut, the healers already took care of it.”

He pictured her in his vision, eyes blank and dull, blood leaking from a wound on her thigh. He shook his head to clear it, but couldn’t get rid of the feeling that he was still trapped in Maeve’s illusion and this part was just meant to get his guard down before she hit him hard.

“Fenrys?”

“Let’s go find a room.” Sleep. He needed to sleep.

Someone—a servant, a former resident of the palace, he didn’t know—directed them to an empty room. The only important details he noticed about the room was that there was a large bed against one wall and a fireplace. Acacia started a small fire with her magic, the flame leaping up slower than it would have before. She was drained, just as he was.

He began taking off his clothes as Acacia slid into the bed. When he was free of his bloody clothes, he joined her, pulling her warm body into his arms. He felt a tinge of regret as sleep moved in to claim him that he didn’t have the energy to talk to her and hear her story, but he was too tired. They could talk when he woke up.

He thought he heard her whisper something as he drifted off and realized right before he blacked out that he never told her they were mates.

***

He slept with his arms around her, numb to the entire world. Her leg ached, and she regretted her lack of knowledge when it came to healing. Maybe Yrene could give her lessons when this was all over.  
Acacia startled. It WAS over. They had won. They had defeated Maeve and Erawan, and Aelin had won back her throne. She shifted uncomfortably. Everything had happened so quickly she never had a chance to plan what she would do after the battle was over. She hadn’t wanted to plan this far, if she was being honest. She hadn’t wanted to make plans without Fenrys in them, because she still didn’t know where or how they fit together in his mind.

She twisted to study his face, the perfect skin now marred with two slashes. Acacia traced them with her eyes, wondering how he’d gotten them and the haunted look he’d worn since she’d ran into him in the corridor. She wondered if he’d tell her.

She let out a sigh and settled back into his arms. There would be time for planning and worrying later. Right now, she needed to sleep. 

◊◊◊

Fenrys woke up slowly, wondering why his body hurt so badly everywhere. There wasn’t a single part of him that didn’t ache. His face was the worst of it. Had he gotten into another fight with Lorcan? He reached up to feel his face and immediately regretted it. Hissing, he pulled his hand away and remembered. They had won.

“Good morning.”

Acacia was laying next to him, her head pillowed on his arm and hair wreathed around her head. Her hair was stained a darker shade of red, like she had bathed while he slept. 

He smiled at her, overwhelmed with emotion. He rolled over on top of her and pressed his forehead to hers, careful of her injured leg. 

“Good morning, beautiful.”

She smiled back, stretching her arms up so she could wrap them around his neck. “How are you? Are you feeling better?”

Fenrys considered. “I suppose,” he said, then told her everything that had happened facing Maeve. 

When he stopped talking, Acacia shook her head and tightened her grip on him. “I didn’t know she was capable of messing with people’s heads like that.”

“I’m grateful you never met her.”

“It’s not your fault that Connall died, Fenrys,” she whispered softly.

He turned his head away. “That’s debatable,” he shrugged, sitting up and running his hands through his hair. “I don’t really want to talk about it right now,” he added.

She sat up with him. “That’s okay. I promise I won’t push you to talk—about this or about Gavriel. Just know that I’m here if or when you ever do feel like talking about it.”

His heart ached, possibly more than his face. “Thank you, Acacia.” He inhaled deeply, suddenly nervous and jittery for what he was going to say next. “Actually, there is something I did want to talk to you about. Something that happened during the battle.”

Acacia took his hand in hers, playing with his fingers and running her nails over the rough palm of his hand. “What is it?”

Here goes nothing, Fenrys. Just tell her and get it over with. What’s the worst that could happen, she rejects you? She wouldn’t do that…would she?

“So um, when Maeve was messing with my head and I saw you with Connall in Doranelle, you wrote a message to me in um, in Connall’s blood on the floor.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Ew, I would never do that. I have learned that I actually hate blood, very much. And I especially hate blood that’s not mine. And I especially especially hate it when I’m covered in blood that’s not mine.”

“I know you wouldn’t do that, but it was what I saw.”

“What did I write?”

“What?”

“What did I write on the floor?”

Fenrys took another deep breath in and then let everything out at once. “You wrote ‘mate’ and when I saw it on the floor I felt this, I don’t know, this ‘connection’ with you that I’ve never felt with anyone else before, it was like there was this piece of you that belonged to only me and it was sitting on my chest right above my heart and then you killed yourself and I felt myself die along with you but then Aelin brought me out of the hallucination and I could still feel it! I could still feel you, and I knew you were alive and not dead and I feel it right now, right here—” he stabbed at his chest, “and so I think we’re mates. I know we’re mates. And if you don’t want that with me or if you are unsure and need time to think about it then I understand, I don’t know how you’ll feel about it or if you’ll think I’m crazy or—” 

His monologue was interrupted by a loud sob from Acacia who then threw herself into his arms, toppling him over backwards in the bed. “Of course I don’t think you’re crazy,” she said, voice strangled and high-pitched right in his ear. “I knew you were my mate from the moment you threatened to shoot me with an arrow in the woods.”

Fenrys shoved her away in disbelief. “WHAT?”

Acacia blushed and wrung her hands. “Um, yeah. I knew right away.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded, still unable to wrap his head around the fact that she knew! She had known this whole time!

“I wanted you to realize it on your own,” she said, reaching out for his hands again. He let her take them, held her small hands tightly enough to almost break bone. “You were so hurt, and I didn’t know if you’d even want me as your mate! Maybe you’d be disappointed. We didn’t exactly meet in a normal way, and I’m not the type of female I thought you would picture yourself with. I hadn’t combed my hair in years! I thought maybe you’d be disappointed,” she repeated.

He shook his head, immediately dismissing her concerns. How could he tell her that he thought she was perfect and everything he ever hoped his mate would be? “I’m not disappointed,” he reassured her, cupping her face. “I don’t think anything could make me happier than I am right now.”

“Really?”

“I promise.” He let himself grin wickedly at her. “In fact, if every part of my body didn’t hurt like hell right now, and if your leg wasn’t so cut up, I’d show you just how happy I really am.”

Acacia laughed. “That will be something to look forward to, then.”

“Absolutely.”

His mate—it felt so good to think of her that way, would probably feel even better to say it out loud—grew serious and studied his face. “I like them,” she said, tracing the wounds without touching them. “They make you look fierce, and roughish.”

He smirked. “Good thing I am both.” Fenrys studied her, cataloging every detail and feature of her face. “Let’s keep this to ourselves for a while.”

Her face fell immediately, but she tried to hide it with an unconvincing nod and smile. “Yeah, okay. Whatever you want.”

“Not that I’m ashamed,” he hurried to explain. “Because I’m not ashamed of you or us. You’re my mate.” It did feel good to say that. So so good. Too bad he was in such bad shape right now…  
“I just think that if we tell people now, they’ll have all of these expectations of us, you know? They’ll expect us to act like Aelin and Rowan, or like Elide and Lorcan. But I don’t want to be them. I want to be us. And this is so new, I’d like some time to explore it with you, figure things out with you and only you. I just want to keep you to myself for a while. If that’s okay with you.”

“Of course that’s okay with me,” Acacia said, her smile back on her face so wide her eyes crinkled at the corners. “We’ll tell them when we’re ready.”

“Right.” Fenrys stretched and looked out the window. The sun was higher in the sky than he expected it to be. “Let’s go find the others, see what the plans are for today. We have a lot of rebuilding ahead of us.”

Acacia began to climb out of bed, but he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back into his arms. 

“After I kiss you good morning first. Mate.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What?? Two updates in one week?? How crazy is that? lmao but for real y'all, my only note for this chapter is: if you're disappointed or want more of the cadre mourning Gavriel (because ummm who wouldn't want that?) JUST YOU WAIT because I have a whole scene planned where they all get drunk and reminisce about their times together and it will be everything you ever wanted so just hold on :)


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Acacia's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a bit of a filler chapter before some more serious plot comes in :)

***  
They ran into Elide and Lorcan on their way up to the north tower, which was apparently where Aelin and Rowan were hiding out. Several flights of steps later they overtook Aelin’s cousin, Aedion, and Lysandra, who apparently shared the same idea as everybody else of finding Aelin but had become…distracted. Acacia wasn’t sure why Lysandra unnerved her so much, but she made sure to keep Fenrys between her and the shapeshifter. Shapeshifters had been particularly feared in Sollemere, harboring a tendency to turn into ferocious animals and disembowel their enemies in spectacularly gruesome ways. Even though Lysandra had saved her life, whenever the shapeshifter looked at her with those emerald eyes, she couldn’t help but picture a giant wyvern impaling the witch on her spikes and sending her flying across the battlefield. So for now, she’d keep her distance.

Another young man, who had quietly introduced himself to Acacia as Ren Allsbrook, warily followed them up the steps, keeping to himself and ignoring the bubbly chatter of the others. Acacia did the same, unsettled by the presence of Lysandra and Aedion. She told herself she should be used to the company of powerful and intimidating males by now, having travelled with several of them for days, but something about Aedion’s manner differed from Fenry’s or Rowan’s. 

They found Aelin and Rowan on the balcony, Aelin’s face tipped back to soak in the weak rays of sunlight filtering down through the winter clouds. She turned to study them each in turn as they emerged from the narrow staircase, and apparently whatever she saw in them failed her test.

“Did anyone bother to sleep?” she asked sarcastically and snorted when only Fenrys lifted his hand. Acaica kept her own hand down by her side, feeling once again completely out of place among this group and fearing any attention she brought to herself. Things had been different in Oakwald: she had been in her element, in her home, and they had needed her help. Here, she was completely out of her league and had nothing to offer.

Aedion frowned at something on the floor of the balcony. “We’re putting a rug over it,” Aelin told him, and Acacia noticed for the first time a dark stain on the stones.  
She tugged on Fenrys’ shirtsleeve in a silent question, and he leaned down to whisper in her ear, “That’s where Yrene killed Erawan.”

She shuddered, trying and failing to picture the sweet-tempered and pregnant healer facing Erawan by herself. Yrene was a different breed, she thought, reflecting with shame how she had struggled to keep it together facing only Erawan’s grunts. 

A laugh from Elide drew her from her thoughts, and she zoned back into the conversation to hear Rowan mumble, “At least this court won’t be boring.”

Aelin put a hand on her chest, the portrait of outrage. “You were honestly worried it would be?”

“Gods help us,” Lorcan grumbled, and Acacia had to hide her smile as Elide elbowed him in the chest, drawing a grunt of pain from the male. 

Aelin ignored them, instead turning to Ren, who was lingering by the archway as if he were considering making a quick exit. Acaica honestly didn’t blame him and knew that if Fenrys wasn’t standing right next to her with a warm hand on her back, she would have already slunk away down the stairs. She didn’t know why being around this particular group made her so self-conscious of her own lack of self-worth, but she figured if she kept quiet and stayed to herself maybe they wouldn’t make her go away just yet. 

“Now’s the chance to escape, you know,” Aelin said to Ren, “before you get sucked into all this endless nonsense. We could always use one more to partake in the nonsense.” As if she’d either heard Acacia’s thoughts or suddenly remembered that she was standing right in front of her, the queen’s eyes flickered to Acacia and a warm smile lit up her face. “Two more, actually.”

Acacia froze. Did she know how to speak? She thought once she maybe knew how to form words and communicate civilly, but apparently, she had lost that talent and now remained mute like a stupid cow, as Hasar was fond of saying. 

Ren saved her from answering immediately. “You gave up everything and still came back here. Still fought.”

“All of it for Terrasen,” Aelin said quietly, face full of nothing but honesty.

“Yes, I know. I understand that now,” he replied, offering Aelin a small smile of his own. “I think I might need a bit of nonsense myself, after this war.”

Aedion muttered, “You’ll regret saying that.”

But Aelin sketched a bow. “Oh, he certainly will.” She turned from Ren to Acacia, the full weight of her attention blinding like the summer sun. “Ren’s in. Now, what about you, Lady of the Forest? We have a place here for you, with us, if that’s what you want.”

Is that what she wanted? She didn’t really know what she wanted now. A week ago, she never would have thought of leaving Oakwald. She was happy where she was, talking with the Little Folk and the animals, keeping the forest in order. But had she really been happy?

Now she had met her mate, but she didn’t know what his plans for the future were. And did she really belong here, among these people? She was from Sollemere, a place so evil, Maeve—who was VALG for crying out loud—had ordered Rowan and Lorcan to destroy it. Besides, she had no distinguishing talent, she was shit with a sword, a true liability in battle…what did she have to offer? How did Aelin think that adding her into the ranks of the court would improve her kingdom in any possible way?

She looked up at Fenrys in desperation, trying to read how he felt about Aelin’s offer. If he looked even remotely like he wanted her to say no, then she would. But when she studied his face, the only emotion she thought she could discern in his eyes was a flicker of hope. She tilted her head at him in a silent question, and pleasure thrilled through her veins when he nodded his head back at her, the beginning of a smile turning the corners of his mouth up.

He wanted her to stay.

Acacia turned back to Aelin, who had watched the silent exchange. “I would like that very much. Thank you.” Fenrys reached for her hand and squeezed it.

Aelin let out a small and very undignified whoop of delight, the kind of sound you would never expect to come out a queen’s mouth. But this was no ordinary court.

“That’s settled, then. We now have two new members. I swear to you, I won’t bore you to tears. A queen’s oath.”

“And what will not boring us entail, then?” Aedion asked.

“Rebuilding,” Elide said. “Lots of rebuilding.”

“Trade negotiations,” Lysandra said.

“Training a new generation in magic,” Aelin went on.

The males just blinked at the females.

Aelin angled her head, blinking right back at them. “Don’t you lot have anything worthwhile to contribute?” She clicked her tongue. “Three of you are old as hell, you know. I’d have expected better from cranky old bastards.” 

Their nostrils flared. Aedion grinned, Ren wisely clamping his lips together to keep from doing the same. 

But Fenrys said, “Four. Four of us are old as hell.”

Aelin arched a brow, and for a minute, Acacia was quietly offended, thinking that he was talking about HER. But then Fenrys smirked, the movement stretching his scars. “Vaughan is still out there. And now free.”

“Who’s Vaughan?” Acacia asked. She’d never heard his name before.

“One of our brothers. He also swore the bloodoath to Maeve,” Fenrys explained. 

Rowan crossed his arms. “He’ll never be caught again.”

But Fenrys smirk turned knowing. He pointed to the camped Fae army on the plain, the wolves and humans amongst them. “I have a feeling someone down there might know where to start.” He glanced at Aelin. “If you’d be amenable to another cranky old bastard joining this court.”

Aelin shrugged. “if you can convince him, I don’t see why not.” Acacia caught the smile that crept over Rowan’s face as he glanced up at the sky, as if searching for something.

Fenrys winked at Aelin. “I promise he’s not as miserable as Lorcan.” Elide gasped and smacked Fenrys on the arm at the same time Acacia swatted his stomach and chided, “Be nice, Fenrys.”

Her mate just danced away, hands up as he laughed. “You’ll like him,” he promised, speaking to Aelin but looking at Acacia. “All the ladies do,” he added with another wink to the gathered females. 

Aelin just laughed and leaned over the balcony, taking in the gathered groups below. “We promised everyone a better world,” she said after a moment, voice solemn. “So we’ll start with that.”

“Starting small,” Fenrys said, rolling his eyes. “I like it.”

Aelin smirked at him. “I rather liked the whole let’s-vote-on-the-Wyrdkeys thing we did. So we’ll start with more of that, too.”

Silence. Then Lysandra asked, “Voting on what?”

Aelin shrugged, sliding her hands into her pockets. “Things.”

Acacia choked on a laugh at the evasive and nonspecific answer, while Aedion arched a brow and said, “Like dinner?”

Aelin rolled her eyes. “Yes, on dinner. Dinner by committee.”

Acacia turned to look at Ren, to see what he was making of this discussion. She wasn’t sure what Terrasen had been like before, but she was sure court discussions had been nothing like this. The young man had his arms crossed, eyes slightly widened, taking it all in. He caught her looking at him and silently shook his head, making a face as if to say, “Can you believe this? Did we make the wrong decision?”

Elide coughed. “I think Aelin means on vital things,” she said to Aedion. “Like on how to run this kingdom.”

“You’re queen,” Lorcan said disdainfully. “What’s there to vote on?”

“People should have a say in how they are governed. Policies that impact them. They should have a say in how this kingdom is rebuilt. I will be queen, and my children…” Her cheeks heated as she smiled toward Rowan. “Our children,” she said a bit softly, “will rule. One day. But Terrasen should have a voice. Each territory, regardless of the lords—Or ladies—who rule it,” she said, winking at Lysandra, “should have a voice. One chosen by its people.”

The cadre looked toward one another then. Rowan said, “There was a kingdom—to the east. Long ago. They believed in such things. It was a place of peace and learning. A beacon in the distant and violent part of the world. Once the Library of Orynth is rebuilt, we’ll ask the scholars to find what they can about it.”

Acacia knew then that she had made the right decision on joining this court. She couldn’t help but compare it to Sollemere, her old home. She had been younger, had been too focused on living her life unnoticed and staying alive to pay much attention to the government and rulers, but she knew for a fact that the way Sollemere was ruled was nothing like the future Aelin promised. Her people had had no voice, no control over how they lived. Perhaps that was why everyone was so violent, trying to make up for the lack of control they felt on a daily basis. 

“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” she said softly, earning a pleased look from Aelin. 

Fenrys agreed. “We could reach out to the kingdom itself,” he said. “See if some of their scholars or leaders might want to come here. To help us.” He shrugged. “I could do it. Travel there, if you wish.”

She froze in shock. He wanted to leave? She imagined how long a trip like that would take him, crossing the sea, making contact with the kingdom and its leaders, then convincing them to come help them? He would be gone months, possibly even years. And she noticed what he had said: “I could do it.” Not “we.” Just him, no mention of her coming along. He hadn’t even looked at her, or asked if that would be something she would be interested in doing. He had accepted her as his mate, but apparently, he had no intent on sticking around. She tried to put a positive spin on it; maybe he just needed some time away from everyone, to go off on his own and heal from all that he’d seen and endured. If that’s what he needs, she told herself, then that’s what you have to accept. You might not be part of his healing process. That thought did not sit well with her.

She shifted a few inches away from Fenrys, putting some physical distance between them while preparing for the mental distance that was undoubtedly going to occur. Just because she was wholly obsessed with him did not mean he returned the sentiments.

She had missed part of the others’ conversation, something about a library. But when Aedion interrupted with a loud cough and, “Can we PLEASE stop talking and go get something to eat?” the group laughed and made their way down to the dining hall. 

Acacia sidled away when Fenrys tried to take her hand as they walked down the spiral staircase, instead increasing her pace to catch up with Elide. She slipped her arm through Elide’s as they descended, matching her steps to Elide’s slower ones. Elide welcomed her with a warm smile and swung their linked arms.

“I’m starving,” she chirped. “I can’t remember when I last ate something.”

“You didn’t eat anything last night?”

Elide blushed and ducked her head, lowering her voice to barely above a whisper. “I may have been a bit…preoccupied.” She flicked her eyes at Lorcan with a guilty grin.

Acacia snorted. “I could tell. You two were very obvious just now.”

Elide laughed and then squeezed Acacia’s arm. “We’re going to get married, Acacia.”

Acacia skipped a step out of excitement and squeezed her arm back. “That’s so exciting! Elide, I’m so happy for you.”

“Thank you. We’ll most likely wait until the rebuilding has finished, or at least until a good part of it is done. Also, who wants to get married in the winter?”

“It is very dreary,” Acacia agreed as they exited the stairs and turned down the main hallway that led to the dining hall. Already the castle looked better than it had last night, with ensconced flames cheerfully lighting the hallway, and people just starting to wake up and wander the halls looking for breakfast.

“How are you doing? You holding up okay after the battle?”

“I’m alright,” Acacia answered. “My leg hurts, but other than that I’m okay. I don’t know if I’ve really processed everything that’s happened, you know? It just doesn’t feel real to me yet.”

Elide nodded, face serious. “I feel the same way. Even though I wasn’t fighting, the time I spent helping the healers feels like a dream.” She shrugged, grabbing Acacia’s arm to turn down another hallway. “I guess lots of people feel that way, after a battle. Lorcan told me he feels like that all the time.”

“Something else seems to be bothering you, though,” Elide continued. “Do you want to talk about anything?”

“No,” Acacia blurted, followed by, “yes. Maybe. I don’t know. I’m not even sure I should be upset, I might just be reading into things.”

They had reached the dining hall, which was alive with the sound of clattering plates and the excited hum of people talking. Acacia saw that the place was completely transformed from last night. Tables had been dragged in and set up in orderly rows. Some came with benches and others had whatever type of seating was available or that could be found around the castle, creating a mismatched and pleasantly informal feel to the room. Orbs of light flickered from the ceiling and candle flames on the tables danced in time with the pulsing light.

“Like what?” Elide asked, leading the way to the food line. A buffet style had been set up, with everyone handed a plate and left to serve themselves. Acacia nervously eyed the amount of food left and then considered the enormous Fae males in front of them with undoubtedly empty stomachs after the battle. She guessed she’d be lucky if a single piece of meat was left after the males were done.  
Acacia lowered her voice. “Well…Fenrys knows we’re mates now—” she waited for Elide to finish squealing in excitement— “but he’s just not acting like we are!”

“How so?”

“Well, we haven’t…you know… since he’s found out, which is fine. I mean, he’s tired, I’m tired, everyone’s tired. Except for you and Lorcan,” she rolled her eyes and Elide smacked her stomach. “But did you hear what he said earlier? He wants to be an emissary. He wants to go find Vaughan, he wants to go overseas and find that kingdom. What about me? Am I just supposed to stay here, waiting for him to come back? Does he even want me to wait for him to come back? I’m so confused, Elide.”

They had finally reached the serving table, and to Acacia’s delight, even though the males had left a huge dent in the food, there was still enough left for them. Elide handed her a plate and some silverware before scooping up some eggs. 

“Yes, I did hear him say that,” she mused. “Honestly, I think it would be good for Fenrys to get away from here for a while. It would give him space to sort himself out. However, that does put you in a difficult position. I think you have two options. You can either wait for things to settle down, and if in a few days or weeks, he starts making travel plans then you talk to him. Or, if you feel too anxious to wait, just talk to him later today and see where you guys are at.” 

“You should just have the conversation for me,” Acacia grumbled as she tried to balance her now overflowing plate and silverware in one hand so she could pour herself a drink with the other.  
Elide just snorted and grabbed her plate from her. “Pour me one, too,” she ordered. “And, I love you, but there is no way I am having that conversation for you.” She shuddered. “Having a serious talk with Lorcan is bad enough. What makes you think I would want to have one with Fenrys?”

They made their way over to the table claimed by their court. Fenrys waved her over when he saw her, pointing at an open space next to him. Elide kissed Acacia on the cheek and went to go sit next to Lorcan, who was sitting as far away from Fenrys as the table allowed.

Before Acaica could sit down, she heard Elide call her name. Her friend dumped her food down on the table and then ran as fast as she could with her ankle over to Acaica. “Oh my gods, I completely forgot to tell you and then the battle happened and I didn’t see you until this morning and then I forgot again but Acacia! You absolutely need to talk to Rowan and Lorcan.”

Acaica frowned, puzzled. “Why? Do they need to tell me something?”

Elide grabbed her hands and leaned forward, dark eyes open wide. “I’m sorry, I know this isn’t the right place to tell you, but I figure you’d prefer to know sooner rather than later as it might change your plans. Rowan didn’t get a chance to explain, when he first told you about Sollemere, but he told me right after you ran away and then was going to tell you the next day but then we got that dryad’s warning and then—”

“Elide! Just tell me please.” She braced herself for more bad news. 

“The children are alive! They'd be older now, not children anymore but Rowan and Lorcan managed to capture and get out all of the little children before they destroyed Sollemere. They’re alive!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Question: Would anyone be interested in reading a fic about Fenrys/Acacia going to look for Vaughan/the old kingdom/children from Sollemere? That's where I was thinking of taking this story, but just let me know!


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenrys' POV. Plans are made and they look for some answers from the Wolf Tribe

◊◊◊  
He heard Acacia’s plate crash to the floor and saw the color seep out of her skin until she stood there, mouth wide open, as pale as a wisp of morning fog. Fenrys leaped up from his spot on the bench and hurried over to her. She was clenching Elide’s hands tightly, hard enough to leave bruises if she kept it up for much longer. As gently as he could, Fenrys loosened Acacia’s grip on her friend’s wrists and held her shaking hands in his own.

“Acacia, what happened?”

She slowly turned her head to look at him, but her eyes drifted somewhere behind his shoulder. “They’re alive,” she murmured. 

He looked at Elide in confusion. “Who’s alive?”

Elide just shook her head and motioned towards the table. “Let’s get her to sit down and then I’ll explain.”

Following her lead, he guided Acacia over to the table and once she sat down, hands clenched into fists in her lap, he rushed off to make her another plate of food. The shattered fragments of her plate remained untouched on the floor, and he distractedly made a mental note to talk to Aelin about rehiring servants. Cleaning up messes was not something he enjoyed doing.

When he returned, Elide had managed to shift people around so Rowan and Lorcan now sat across from Acacia, with Elide on side of her and an empty space for Fenrys to her left. He carefully maneuvered onto the bench, cursing the lack of leg room. He set the plate down in front of Acacia along with a glass of water. 

“Who’s alive?” he repeated.

For a moment, nobody spoke. Aelin leaned in from where she sat on the other side of Rowan, painfully obvious in her eavesdropping while maintaining a conversation with Aedion and Lysandra.

Elide rolled her eyes and huffed in exasperation. “Rowan and Lorcan rescued all of the children from Sollemere before they destroyed it.”

Rowan shifted in his seat. “We don’t know if we rescued ALL of the children, only that we saved all that we could find.”

Lorcan snorted and crossed his arms. “Some of the stupider ones didn’t even want to go.”

Holy shit. He slipped an arm around Acacia and jostled her excitedly. “Acacia, this is great news! Maybe some of your family is still alive!”

“Maybe,” she whispered, still dazed. 

Fenrys shoveled some (honestly gross and burnt) eggs into his mouth. Add chefs onto the list of things Aelin needed to sort out immediately. “What did you do with them?” he directed the question at Lorcan.

“We didn’t do anything with them,” Lorcan answered. “We just told them to scram if they wanted to keep their heads attached to their bodies.”

Elide hissed at him and turned to Rowan. “Do you have any idea of where they might be now?”

Rowan drummed his fingers on the table in short staccato beats, a tell Fenrys recognized from being around the male for decades: he was uncomfortable. “Not really. We didn’t really…stick around…to ensure their survival. They were allowed two hours to pack what they could and get themselves and their siblings out of the city.” Another rhythm tapped out onto the stained wood. “We didn’t check to see who went where or who even bothered to leave.”

“Most likely, they went a few cities over,” Lorcan offered grudgingly with a side glance at Elide. Fenrys wanted to laugh out loud at how whipped the male was for the tiny woman. “Close enough for them to manage the distance, but far enough away from Sollemere where people wouldn’t make them leave immediately, given their reputation. At least, that’s what they would do if they were smart.”

“You mean, that’s what you would do.” Fenrys couldn’t help but blurt out the taunt.

Lorcan narrowed his eyes at him, rising to the bait. “Yes, that is what I would do. What of it?”

“Just because you would do it doesn’t make it smart. I mean, remember that one battle in Rythica, how you wanted us to—"

Lorcan’s nostrils flared and Fenrys had to fight to hold back his grin. “Listen here you piece of shit, that was a tactical decision and—”

Aelin leaned over and clapped her hands once in front of Lorcan’s face. He stopped midsentence and stared at her, as if it took every single cell in his tiny brain to figure out what had just happened. “Alright children save the bickering for later. Breakfast is over, and I have queenly responsibilities I need to attend to. Rowan, anything else you want to add to this conversation?”

“If you plan on looking for them, I’d recommend starting with Lorcan’s idea,” he told Acacia. More quietly and in a softer tone he added, “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you sooner.”

Acacia reached out to grip his hand. “Thank you for saving them,” she whispered. 

Three finger taps. Rowan nodded at her, gently pulling his hand away. Aelin commanded, “Let’s go, bird brain,” and the two of them left the dining hall, Lysandra and Aedion trailing slowly behind.  
Elide leaned forward, recapturing Fenrys’ attention. “So? Do you think you’ll look for them?”

Acacia shook her head slowly. “I don’t know. I never spoke to my extended family, and I didn’t have any friends, so who would there be left to look for?”

“What if one of your sisters had another child?” Fenrys suggested. “You would have been gone for a while before they destroyed Sollemere. Maybe you do have some family out there after all, Acacia.”

Her eyes widened and she twisted her hands together, thinking. However, all she said was, “I hadn’t thought about that.”

Elide shot Fenrys a look and then said, “Well, it’s not like you have to make up your mind now.”

“Why don’t you come with me to talk to the Wolf Tribe, Acacia? You never know what people know. Maybe somebody will have a connection or something useful for you.”

“Maybe.” She stood up swiftly and pushed her plate back. Fenrys noticed with concern that she hadn’t eaten more than a single bite on her plate. “I’m going to go for a walk.”

He let her get to the doorway before he stood up and followed after her, nodding goodbye to Elide and deliberately ignoring Lorcan. 

Fenrys trailed her through the hallways, up and down corridors until Acacia pushed open a door that led to a balcony overlooking what would surely be a beautiful garden in the spring and summer months. He slowly wrapped his arms around her, making sure she was okay with company, and pressed himself against her back.

“Tell me what’s on your mind,” he coaxed.

“I’m just so overwhelmed, Fenrys. This is all just too much for me to take in. A few days ago, I found out my entire family was dead. Now there’s the chance I might have some out there. I just don’t know what to do. I know that if I go looking for them and I don’t find anybody I’ll be devastated but at the same time, I don’t know if I’ll ever be happy if I don’t look. I’ll always be wondering, in the back of my mind, if a niece or nephew is out there, alone, struggling to survive. Maybe they’re praying every night for someone to come save them because they’re all alone, just like I was.” She sighed in frustration and tilted her head back so it rested against his chest. “What should I do?” 

He rested his chin on the top of her head, loving how it felt to hold her like this, even though he had to bend slightly to meet their height difference. “It sounds like you already know what you want to do,” he replied. “And like you said: I don’t think you’d be happy if you didn’t look.”

“Do you really think they’re out there?” she asked, wistfully.

Fenrys hesitated, torn between possibly giving her false hope and crushing her spirits by being brutally honest. In the end, he went with, “It’s been, what, one hundred years since you left? Anything could have happened in that time.”

“I think I should go,” she whispered, decidedly. 

“I think you should, too,” he agreed. 

He felt her tense in his arms, and she shifted her posture slightly enough so their bodies no longer connected. “So,” she eventually said, voice tight and unreadable, “I guess we’ll have to say goodbye for a while.”

He looked at her in disbelief. Goodbye? “What do you mean?”

“What do you mean, ‘what do I mean’?” she snapped. “You’ll be off in some distant country learning about their government and searching for Vaughan, and I’ll be looking for my relatives. Who knows how long that will take? We probably won’t see each other for years. So, we should say goodbye.” 

“I still don’t understand,” Fenrys said.

“It’s fine, Fenrys.” Acacia twisted in his arms to finally look at him, and he caught the tears that started to gather in the corners of her eyes. “I get it, okay? You need to heal, you need some time to yourself. It will be good for you. Maybe this trip will be good for me too, you know? I haven’t left Oakwald in such a long time… But anyway, don’t feel like you have to, you know… stick to the mating bond or, I don’t know…” she stumbled over her words, cheeks flushing pink. 

“’Stick to the mating bond?’ Are you telling me it’s okay to sleep with other people when I’m travelling?”

“Well…yes? I mean, we’re not together and—”

“We’re not together? Lady, what the hell are you talking about?” He pushed her up against the balcony rail, holding her there with his body, arms braced on either side of her, annoyance shredding his temper. He didn't mean to get angry, but the thought of her sleeping with someone else... “So, tell me: you don’t think we’re together?”

“I mean, not officially, you never said—”

“So you’re trying to tell me that we’re MATES and you think ‘we’re not together?’ Tell me,” he snarled, anger flashing red hot now, “would I do this if we ‘weren’t together’?” 

He bent down and captured her lips, biting the bottom one harshly before kissing her deeply. One hand lifted to her breast and squeezed.

Acacia struggled against him, trying to worm her way out of the situation but he held his ground and nipped her lips again. “You’re not going anywhere until we get this figured out, so stop trying to get away,” he growled breathlessly. “Now I’m going to say something and you’re going to listen, and I’ll say it as many times as I have to until you understand. You are my mate. Mine. Nobody else’s. Just like I am yours. So all of this bullshit about sleeping with other people? Not going to happen, so I don’t want to hear about it again, understand? Did you forget the conversation we just had about this?”

She was staring up at him, eyes wide. “I wasn’t sure if you really knew what you wanted. Maybe, once you were travelling and I wasn’t there, you’d realize that this relationship isn’t what you want.”  
He sucked air in through his teeth in an attempt to calm himself down. Did she not understand? She was everything he wanted. Nobody else would ever be good enough for him now. He cupped the back of her head, fingers twisting and threading through her mess of curls. “Thank you for being concerned about me. But I promise you that you are what I want. Also, what’s this nonsense about you not travelling with me?”

Acacia shifted her weight from one foot to another. “Well, you’re going to find Vaughan and the eastern kingdom, and I’ll be searching for my family.”

“Yes, and we’ll be doing that together.”

She jerked her head up in shock. “You want me to come with you?”

“Of course, I thought that was the plan all along.”

She frowned. “You never invited me. You made it seem like you wanted to go by yourself.”

Fenrys rolled his eyes. They really needed to work on their communication. “Sweetheart, why the hell would I want to be anywhere without you? I would honestly love nothing more than to travel with you.”

His heart raced at the thought of it: just the two of them, learning each other, having all the time in the world to explore and discover new places with his mate by his side. They could take their time, spending an extra day in cities that attracted them, drinking in taverns at night and staying up late to watch the stars. He would have no deadline, no overwhelming feeling of being in a race against time, no nagging thoughts in the back of his head telling him to hurry up hurry up hurry up.

It would be heaven. It would be everything he’d always yearned for while leashed to Maeve in Doranelle. Freedom. Maeve had rarely ever sent him on trips or missions like she had with the others, instead preferring to savor his misery while he stayed behind, servicing her in her bed. He couldn’t remember a single day where he hadn’t woken up hoping that his life was just a bad dream, and once he opened his eyes, he would be back at home with Connall. But now he was free, and nobody was going to stop him from enjoying the hell out of this trip.

He scooped his mate up in his arms and spun her around in circles, pressing his forehead to hers, breathing in her sweet scent. “You and I are going to have such a good time,” he giggled—actually fucking giggled—as he twirled her around. “I promise.”

◊◊◊

They would talk to the Wolf Tribe and the lost Fae of Terrasen first. Rowan had told them there was some debate about how long they would stay in Terrasen before riding back north, so Fenrys wanted to talk with them as soon as possible. He was currently waiting, somewhat impatiently, for Acacia to find some warmer clothes before they tried their luck with the northern Fae.

He heard footsteps approaching and pushed off from where he was leaning against a wall, but quickly sagged back against it when he saw it was only Aelin and Aedion, talking quietly with each other as they made their way down the hall. Aelin was the first to notice him, and quickened her pace until she stood before him, arms crossed and a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Fenrys, are you hiding? Did you get tired of all the cleaning and rebuilding already? Because if that’s the case, then first of all, this is a terrible hiding place, and secondly, I don’t know what to tell you about the next few upcoming weeks. You’re going to be very disappointed.”

“More like months,” he heard Aedion mumble under his breath.

He smiled back at his queen and tilted his head back against the wall. “I’m not hiding, I promise,” he said, although honestly, he kind of was. Sweeping, mopping, or dusting? No thank you. “Acacia and I are going to talk to the lost Fae and the Wolf Tribe, see if they have any useful information about Vaughan or her family.”

“Hmmm,” Aelin hummed, “I need to go talk to them, too, but I haven’t had time yet.” She threw her hands up in frustration. “There are just too many damn things to do!”

“We should ask them how they trained their wolves,” Aedion chimed in, sneaking a glance at Aelin. Fenrys averted his eyes from the warrior; he looked too much like Gavriel. “Maybe that could be something we use later on, in our new kingdom. How badass would it look to our enemies to see us charging at them on massive wolves?”

Aelin rolled her eyes. “We have Fenrys. I think that’s enough.”

Aedion turned to Fenrys and measured him up. Fenrys felt like a pretty girl in a line being assessed by a potential suitor for a dance. He didn’t like it. He tried not to blush. 

“I wonder who’s bigger: Fenrys or the northern wolves?”

Aelin snorted, then quickly covered her mouth with her hand. 

“I bet the northern wolves are bigger,” Aedion continued, and Fenrys kind of wanted to punch him. Luckily, Acacia saved him from the horrible conversation by appearing at his side, wrapped in layers upon layers of clothing.

He shook his head, amusement lacing his voice. “Lady, you used to sleep naked in trees. Why do you need all those clothes?”

She pouted and crossed her arms. “I don’t want to be cold.”

Fenrys rolled his eyes and took her arm, saying goodbye to Aelin and Aedion, and led the way to the gates. 

Acacia clung to his arm happily, smiling at a few people they passed on their way outside. “Do you know what you’re going to ask them?” she asked once they stepped outside.

He shrugged. “Not really,” he replied honestly, picking his way towards the camps that had been set up not far from the castle walls. 

“They kind of intimidate me,” she confessed. “But I would really like to pet a wolf.”

Fenrys laughed, picturing the image in his mind. “You have your own wolf you can pet anytime you like,” he winked at her.

They were stopped by a sentry before they made it to the first line of tents. The female was tall and wrapped head to toe in furs. A hood covered most of her face from view, but a thin braid of dark brown hair snaked its way out of the opening. 

“Who are you?” she asked. Her voice sounded like someone took a Terrasen accent and hit it with a hammer, the vowels all smooshed together and words ringing and strangely accented.

He introduced himself and Acacia, stating their purpose in a succinct manner, and the sentry tilted her head at them in interest and consideration. When he had finished speaking, she said, “I will take you to our lead scout. Maybe he will have the information you desire.”

She led them through the camp, and Fenrys didn’t know where to look first. His eyes darted between admiring the camp setup, the neat and disciplined lines of tents, the clothes and uniforms the soldiers wore, mixtures of brown leather and grey fur, to the massive wolves, some wandering around on their own, others laying down, some being groomed or fussed over by their riders. His ears strained to pick up the conversation between one particular rider and her wolf. It sounded to him like a series of clicks and whistles, along with some yips and growls thrown in. 

He turned to their guide in awe. “Do you talk with them?”

Her gaze followed his to the pair, and she smiled. “Yes, we have our own way of communicating with them. Not like I am talking to you, you understand, but more like one whispers to the wind and prays it is kind enough to listen.”

“How do you make them listen to you in battle or during training?”

“We do not make them do anything. They are our brothers and our sisters. We move with a shared goal in mind.”

“That’s amazing,” he breathed, admiring the easy bond all of riders seemed to demonstrate with their wolves. 

“It is just like the giant birds and their riders in your own army, is it not? We all fight for the same thing.”

She stopped in front of a larger tent, a flag with a leaping wolf on a blue background flapping in the bitter winter wind to the side of the entrance. She motioned for them to wait while she ducked inside, and appeared moments later, gesturing for them to come in.

Inside, they were greeted by a man wearing the same garb as their guide, dark brown skin visible only through his hands and face, black hair streaked with gray pulled back into a half-bun. He looked up as they entered, eyes flicking back and forth from Fenrys to Acacia. A wolf lay at his feet, eyes mirroring her rider’s. She was smaller than any of the other wolves they had seen on their way in, and her coat was almost pure black, with flecks of white in her eyebrows and the tip of her tail. His stomach twisted. Connall. 

“Thank you, Mirona, for showing them to me” the man said, dismissing their guide. Fenrys couldn’t help but immediately like the man: his voice was soft but firm, full of quiet authority. He continued to assess them as Mirona left, hands idly running through his wolf’s coat. “My name is Brye,” he introduced himself, “and I am the head scout for the Wolf Tribe. Everything and anything my scouts find is passed through to me. Perhaps I can answer the questions Mirona said you had for me. So tell me, what are you looking for?”

Fenrys took a half-step closer, pushing forward into the warmth of the tent. “My name is Fenrys, and this is my mate, Acacia. I am a bloodsworn member of her Highnesses’ court, and I am looking for one of my brothers. His name is Vaughan, and I have reason to believe your tribe may have encountered him. Our old queen sent him north on a mission.” 

“Your old queen?”

Fenrys gritted his teeth, unexcited about sharing this part of his history but realizing that it was necessary. “Yes. My brothers and I used to serve Maeve before Queen Aelin.”

Brye, to his relief, showed no hint of surprise or disgust, and continued to stroke his wolf’s ears. “I see. And now that Maeve is dead, you wish to be reunited with your brother.”

Fenrys nodded in confirmation, and described what Vaughan looked like, what he had most likely been wearing, the questions he would have asked, and what the male would look like in his animal form, an osprey.

Brye turned to Acacia. “And what about you? Who are you looking for?”

“My family,” she whispered. “My city, Sollemere, was destroyed around a hundred years ago, and I think some of my people might have escaped. They would resemble me, for the most part, with my eyes. I was hoping maybe you might know where they are.”

Brye was already shaking his head before she finished speaking, and Fenrys felt his heart drop at the look of disappointment on Acacia’s face.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “but I have never heard of Sollemere or encountered anyone matching your description. But I will question my scouts, just in case one of them heard or saw something and didn’t consider it worth mentioning.”

“Thank you,” Acacia murmured, but Fenrys could still tell Brye’s answer had upset her. He took her hand and squeezed, hoping she wouldn’t regret her decision to look for her family if it was already starting out this badly.

His attention slipped back to Brye when he was told, “Your quest, however, I think I can help with.”

“You’ve seen Vaughan?”

Brye shook his head. “I haven’t seen him personally, but I vaguely remember hearing some reports on a male that matches your description of him. He didn’t register as a threat and he never made contact with us, so I thought nothing of it at the time. Let me speak with the scouts who reported this information in further detail, and I will tell you what they say.”

Excitement shot through his body, but he tried his best to keep it in check. “Thank you, Brye. This means a lot.”

“Of course,” the lead scout said, rising from his chair. “Let me walk you back. I will send for you in no more than two days’ time. Stay, Lewhah,” he directed toward the wolf, who had begun to rise with him, and instead rested her head on her paws.

Brye exited the tent, holding the flap for them to follow out. He walked companionably by their side, allowing Fenrys the chance to study him. Pointed ears peaked out from beneath the loose strands of his hair, and Fenrys did a double take. “You’re Fae?” At his question, Acacia turned her head and stared at his ears as well.

Brye smiled. “Yes. My parents were from Terrasen before they had to flee and found refuge with the Wolf Tribe. I was born in the far north and was welcomed into the tribe from birth.”

“Wow,” Acacia said. “Will you return with your tribe or stay here in Terrasen?”

The man’s lips tightened into a tense line and he sighed as he gazed at the castle looming before them. “That is the question we are all asking ourselves. I grew up listening to the tales my parents told about their lives in Terrasen, how wonderful this kingdom was before they were forced away. But to me, those were just stories, ghost tales of a past long buried in the shadows of survival. The only life I knew was the one the Wolf Tribe offered me. I did not understand why they clung to their old lives so tightly.” He sighed again and added in a softer voice, “However, now I might understand why.”

“How long will you be here for?” Fenrys asked as they neared the end of the lines of tents.

“For three more days, at least,” Brye replied. “I know our King wishes to speak with your queen, and we need time to ready ourselves for the journey back north. Some of us wish to help with the rebuilding, considering our shared history. I do not know how many will remain here when we depart.” 

They had reached the end of the camp, and Fenrys picked out Mirona among the few sentries standing guard. Brye gestured at her and told them, “I will send her for you when I have some answers. Until then.”

They thanked him for his help once more and then trudged slowly back to the castle. Fenrys’ excitement dampened a little at Acacia’s silence, her head down as she focused a little too intently on where she placed her feet. 

He stopped her before they entered the gate leading into the castle. “Hey, look at me,” he commanded gently. She tilted her head back to look at him. “This is just the beginning, okay? Brye might not have the answer, but maybe one of the scouts will know something. And if they don’t know anything, then maybe Vaughan will know something. Or maybe somebody at the castle. Or maybe somebody we meet along the way. Okay? Somebody has to know something.”

“Okay,” she agreed, but he could tell she was still upset. 

He wrapped his arms tightly around her, holding her close to his heart where she belonged. “This is just day one, baby girl. Just the first step. I promise you, we will keep searching until we find them, okay?”

A small smile flitted across her face. “Thank you, Fenrys.”

“Of course, sweetheart.” He hesitated, bouncing a question around in his mind.

“What is it?”

“Nothing, it doesn’t matter,” he quickly decided, grabbing her hand to pull her inside. “Come on.”

“No, really, what is it?” She dragged her heels into the snow, comically throwing all of her weight into stopping him. 

Being the magnanimous gentleman that he was, Fenrys stopped pulling and let her think that she stopped him. He looked at the ground and kicked a piece of snow that looked particularly offensive to him. “It’s just…” he started, then sighed. Might as well say it. “Do you think those wolves were bigger than me?”

He stormed inside and left her on the ground where she had collapsed in a fit of laughter. Who needed mates anyways?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive the late update, it was exam week for me thank god that's over. Guys writing the Wolf Tribe was actually so much fun, not goin to lie, we will definitely see more of them later because I've always had questions about them and now I get to make up a history for them all on my own! Thank you all for your super sweet comments! Next chapter is going to be fun!


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both POV's, mostly Acacia's but Fenrys' towards the end. This is a shorter chapter, but it would be ruined if I added anything else to it.

***  
Their faces flashed through her mind all day, distracting her from cleaning, interrupting her thoughts during conversations. She was sure Lysandra now considered her a certified idiot after all the “ums” and “uhs” she had used to stumble through their brief talk earlier at dinner. The shapeshifter had tried to ask her about her part in the battle, before she had saved her and Aelin, but talking had proved to be a more difficult task than facing three Valg head-on. 

Even now, as she lay curled up on her bed waiting for Fenrys to join her, she pictured their faces, what her nieces or nephews would look like. She imagined almond shaped violet eyes, freckles liberally covering all surfaces. But who’s child would they be? Zinnia’s, with jet black hair and high, regal cheekbones? Or perhaps Marigold’s, curly haired with delicate ears? Or maybe, the child would belong to Iris, a mirror image of sweet baby Blossom, with brilliant golden hair and long lashes, pink cheeks and the smoothest, palest alabaster skin?

She knew in her heart that any relative they found would most likely not be a child, but instead an adult. So many years had passed since Sollemere’s destruction. However, she couldn’t shake the image of a tiny child jumping into her lap, their little arms wrapped tightly around her neck, watching them grow up like she never got to do with Blossom. 

Her useless fantasies were interrupted as Fenrys slipped into the room, startling when he found her awake. He had stayed up later with the cadre, planning details for Gavriel’s upcoming funeral. “I thought you’d be asleep by now,” he murmured, slipping off his shoes before coming to join her on the bed. 

“I couldn’t sleep,” she confessed, scooting over to create room for him. “Too much on my mind right now.”

Fenrys’ brow wrinkled in concern. “Do you want me to go see the healers for a sleeping potion for you? Maybe Yrene would have something to help. Let me go see.”

He was already halfway to the door before she could stop him.

“Fenrys, no, it’s okay,” she insisted. “Just come lay down with me. Help me turn my mind off.”

Fenrys smirked then whipped his shirt off over his head, dramatically flexing his muscles as he dropped it on the floor. “I can do that. No problem, baby.”

Acacia giggled and hummed in appreciation. Even with the scars now crossing his face (which had already healed quite nicely, thanks to Yrene’s special attention), he was still the most beautiful male she had ever seen. Butterflies swarmed her stomach as she admired him, eyes lingering on the golden well-muscled skin of his arms and defined abs. She was so gods-damned lucky. 

Noticing her attention, Fenrys grinned and slowly made his way over to the foot of the bed. He grabbed her ankles with both hands, stroking up and down the inside of her legs in teasing, light movements. “See something you like, Lady?”

Acacia tilted her head, pretending to consider his words. “Hmmm,” she replied, squinting her eyes at him. “I’m not seeing anything too impressive. Maybe if you took some more clothes off—” she broke off midsentence, words morphing into a squeal as his hands jumped up further to behind her knees, and he yanked her towards him in one swift motion.

He laughed at her shocked expression and climbed onto the bed, effectively trapping her beneath his strong body, his arms on either side of her head, knees forming a cage for her legs. Holding her gaze, Fenrys slowly lowered himself down until their bodies aligned and she could feel every inch of him against her. Acacia ran her hands down his back, savoring the feel of his muscles beneath her hands.

“Hi,” she whispered, feeling as if nothing in the world could draw her away from this moment, or the heat burning in the depths of his onyx eyes. Right now, she was exactly where she needed to be.

“Hi, beautiful,” he whispered back, tracing a feather-light finger over her eyebrows and down the length of her nose. “Something tells me that we’re not going to get much sleep tonight.” He moved his hips suggestively against hers. “I want to take my time with you.”

The melty drip of his voice sent heat igniting between her legs, and she struggled to keep the stammer out of her voice. “That’s alright with me.” Gods, could she be any more obvious? 

“Good.” Fenrys lifted her into a sitting position, hands toying with the hem of the t-shirt she had slipped on before bed. “Can I take this off?” Receiving her nod of consent, he began to undress her, stopping every few seconds to place a kiss on stretches of her skin he found particularly inviting, exploring her body like he hadn’t before. By the time he was finished, goosebumps covered every inch of her. Fenrys kneeled above her, eyes wandering over her body. For a second, the urge to cover her breasts and hide her body flooded her mind, but she carefully pushed it away, telling herself that he was just as attracted to her as she was to him.

These thoughts were affirmed moments later, when Fenrys leaned down and kissed her passionately, one hand cupping her breast. “You’re so beautiful,” he breathed in between kisses. “I’m so lucky you’re my mate.”

He kissed her until she felt faint, pulling away with a final nip to her bottom lip. His eyes reminded her of the darkest winter nights, fixated with a fierce intensity on her mouth as he rubbed a finger over her swollen lips. 

“Later tonight, I want to see what those lips look like wrapped around my cock,” he growled, nudging the tip of his finger inside of her mouth to stroke her tongue. “But right now, it’s my turn to pleasure you.”

He shifted his weight, moving further down the line of her body. He trailed kisses as he went, stopping to scrape his teeth against her collarbone, dip his tongue into her navel. When Fenrys reached the space between her legs, he grinned up at her wickedly and she thought she might die right there at this very moment. The picture of him, her mate, looking up at her between her legs: golden curls falling into his eyes and tickling her thighs, slight stubble catching the dim light, dark eyes hungry with desire, it was just too much for her. She wanted this image forever ingrained in her brain. 

“Don’t move, or I’ll stop,” he warned, then ducked his head and licked straight up her center. Acacia gasped and grabbed a handful of his hair in each fist. Fenrys groaned in approval, before turning his head to nip at the inside of her thighs. When her fists clenched in his hair, he bit down harder, then ran his tongue over the bruise already forming on her leg. He turned to the other thigh to do the same, leaving bites up and down her legs, occasionally stopping to blow a hot breath over her dripping core, or trace his tongue around where she desperately wanted him. 

When she couldn’t take it anymore, she begged, words falling out of her mouth in patterns that barely made sense to her addled mind. But Fenrys understood, gently kissing each thigh before he sucked her clit into his mouth, and she screamed. He flicked his tongue over the bud, applying light pressure before sucking again. His hand moved lower, caressing her opening. A finger slipped inside her and she pulled his hair. “More,” she gasped.

Fenrys obeyed, adding another finger inside. He began sliding them, torturously slow, in and out, curling his fingers as deep inside her as he could. His tongue continued to flick over her clit, sending bright flashes of pleasure to every crevice of her body. When the sensations began to build up to a dull roar, his fingers moving quicker inside her, Acacia could hardly stand it and tried to close her legs, attempting to shove his head away. But without lifting his head, Fenrys took both of her wrists in his free hand and held them tightly against her stomach, effectively holding her down. 

“Don’t come yet, baby,” he commanded, swirling his tongue in a pattern that made her groan. “I want you to come on my dick.”

She didn’t know if she’d be able to last that much longer. “Fenrys,” she gasped. She was right on the edge.

He curled his fingers once more, hitting that sensitive spot deep inside her, before he flipped her over so she was on her stomach, yanking her backwards so her legs hung off the bed. She twisted her head to watch him as he quickly tore off his pants and stepped in between her legs. 

He grabbed her chin, holding her head in place, the awkward angle straining her neck. “I want to watch your face as you cum,” he growled, then shoved his dick inside her without any further warning.   
A few hard, fast strokes sent her over the edge, tumbling into a void filled with white noise and mind-twisting pleasure. She stayed there, drifting without form through the void, until she gradually came back piece by piece to her body, breathless and panting. 

Fenrys was bent over her back, hands fisted tightly in her hair as he waited for her to return to herself. When she blinked up at him, world blurry, he groaned in her ear, “I can’t stay still any longer, I need to move baby.”

He slid out of her slowly, tip brushing her entrance, before slamming back in, drawing a noise out of her that Acacia didn’t know she could make. He continued for several strokes, teasing her and taking his time, letting her fully adjust to the feeling of him inside her. When she raised her hips, trying to draw him back in, he let go of her hair and moved his hands to her waist, gripping firmly. 

“You ready?” he asked but didn’t even wait for her to answer before he began to fuck her, hips slapping against hers with every stroke, drawing little grunts of pleasure from her every time. She clenched the bedsheet in her fists, eyes rolling to the back of her head in pleasure. More, more, more, she thought. 

Her mate lifted one of her legs off the floor and set it on the bed, maintaining his rhythm the whole time. The movement changed the angle, allowing him to go deeper, hitting that spot with every stroke. The first time he thrust in in the new position, a small scream escaped her lips. He was too deep, she thought, it was too much for her to handle. 

Fenrys bent over her back again and sank his teeth into the side of her neck, hard enough to make her squirm but gentle enough to avoid breaking the skin. “You’re my mate,” he growled into her ear, the hot brush of his breath over the spot where he bit her sending shivers down her spine. “And I’m going to claim you as mine. Nobody else can have you Acacia. Only me.” 

Each thrust pushed her one inch closer to shattering, every nip and brush of his lips on her neck rendering her that much closer to falling apart. Nothing else exists anymore except for the wet slide of his cock inside her and heady weight of his body pressing down into hers. He mixes up his pace, slow dragging thrusts one minute, rough and rapid pounding the next. She’s lost, thrown out to the dark sea with nothing to anchor her except the faintly glowing thread connecting her to her mate. She grasps it tightly, holding it above her head to keep it from drifting off into the waves.

Their breaths are coming in matching staccato bursts, she feels like each one is being punched out as all of her muscles spasm, going off like fireworks. He fucks in harder, holding her against the bed, and she feels pieces of her soul break apart and slip away. She is head over heals for this male. 

He flips her over one more time so they are face to face, and she almost weeps in relief to see he is just as devastated as she is, pieces of his soul escaping to dance with hers in the golden atmosphere above their heads. 

“I’m going to come, baby,” he pants against her mouth, continuing to pound against the sweet, shocky place inside her. “Tell me I’m yours. Let me mark you. Oh gods, Acacia, please let me mark you.”

Although her heart must have stopped working and her tongue feels like a foreign presence in her mouth, she manages to say, voice stuttering, “Mark me, Fenrys. I’m yours, and you are my mate.”

As if the words released a restraint that had been holding him back, Fenrys let out a completely wrecked moan of pleasure. Three more hard quick thrusts, and she felt his teeth sink into her neck and stay there, holding her in place as he came inside her. The piercing pain sparked her own release, and she sobbed as pleasure consumed her body, wave after wave smacking into her and setting her farther adrift.

She struggled to keep afloat, head bobbing under, breaths coming in shallow pants. She was lost, every way she turned part of the sea of nothingness that stretched out before her, threatening to consume her if she didn’t find her way back. 

Twisting and turning, she began to panic until a glimmer of light caught her eyes. Reaching out frantically, her hands caught the thin, golden, and glowing thread. Immediately, calm flooded her senses, evening out her breathing and steadying her heart. She traced the thread back to its source, following it out of the darkness. She could feel him at the other end, Fenrys: strong, steady, unwilling to bend, the connection ten times stronger than it had been before. He held her heart in his hands, patiently waiting for her to return to him. 

He was there when she cleared the last of the darkness, alluring smile dancing across his lips as she joined him. He gestured to the thread, still clasped tightly in her hands. “Do you feel it?”

“Yes,” she said, voice saturated with wonder and awe. She stepped forward, closing the gap between them. “Do you want to feel it, too?”

His eyes danced along her neck, devouring like a wildfire the twin marks he had left. “More than anything else in the world,” he breathed, taking his own steps forward until their bodies brushed together, mimicking moths drawn to a flame. “Will you show me?”

In response, Acacia raised up onto the tips of her toes, pressing her mouth to the side of his neck. She inhaled his scent, fall sunshine and golden barley, and dragged her tongue across the juncture of his neck and collarbone. 

“You’re my mate,” she affirmed, and bit down, breaking the soft skin beneath her teeth. His blood dripped into her mouth and flooded her senses with Fenrys.

◊◊◊

Afterwards, he couldn’t remember the number of times they had sex that night. It was a hazy memory in his mind, and he became overwhelmed with the sensation of Acacia every time he thought about it. He thought about it a lot.

She was so spectacular. Every movement, every word, every thought: absolutely perfect. He wanted to bury himself so deeply inside of her that they became one being, one entity. Maybe that’s what the mating bond did to males, because after she bit him, she was all he could think about. 

They had gone to bed and talked for hours, her head resting on his shoulder, one leg thrown over his stomach. His hands drifted, wrapping curls around a finger, memorizing the indentations of her back, smoothing over the silky-soft skin of her stomach. And then they had drifted lower, until she was gasping and arching against him, making those breathy noises that drove him crazy, and it was all over for him. Being inside of her, feeling her wetness and the pressure of her inner walls squeezing his length, was intoxicating. It was a feeling he didn’t think he could ever get enough of. 

He thought that she felt the same way. Or at least, that was how it seemed, when he woke up once during the night to the feeling of her lips wrapped around his cock, tongue dragging over the head. He’d held her down and fucked her especially well after that, showing her just how much he had enjoyed the way she’d sucked him deep into her throat. 

When Fenrys woke up in the morning, he had to press his hand to his neck to check for the bite marks, dig his fingers into the indentations just to make sure the whole night hadn’t been some crazy dream. He rolled over into a sea of red hair and was once again overcome with just how much he could feel her. She was with him, inside his heart. He could feel her breathing, feel the blissful weight of her contentment as she dreamed, stretched out like a tentacled sea creature and taking up more than her half of the bed. 

An intense feeling of happiness like he’d never felt before exploded through him, engulfing every cell and piece of his being. Acacia was his, and he was hers. He’d never be alone again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing these chapters at work is such an odd feeling, like I'm supposed to be being responsible but here I am writing smut lol but it is what it is. Hope you guys liked this chapter (IT FINALLY HAPPENED) and I promise the next ones will be longer! Love ya


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenrys' POV. The guys get drunk and reminisce about Gavriel's life. Unwanted cuddling ensues.

◊◊◊

“Fenrys!”

He paused mid-step, turning on one heel in time to see Rowan walking briskly down the hall towards him. Fenrys couldn’t help but notice how much happier Rowan looked now than he had even a year ago. A large part of the guilt, stress and just general self-loathing had slipped off his shoulders, allowing the male to walk lighter, let down his guard the smallest bit. He would always be an uptight asshole, but now he was just a little bit less so. Hell, that might even be the start of a smile on his face. Aelin sure had done a number on him.

“What is it, Rowan?”

“Where are you going?”

“Aelin sent me to check on how the rebuilding was going down in the armory. Apparently, there’s been some arguing going on about who’s in charge of the reconstruction. Why, did you need something?”

“Lorcan just bought out the entire stock of ale at the tavern. We’re going to drink to Gavriel’s memory, come join us.”

Fenrys glanced out a window to check the position of the sun in the sky. He laughed under his breath. “Right now? It’s barely midday!”

Rowan grinned and shoved his arm. “Oh, I get it. Now that you have a mate you think you’re better than the rest of us. Sophisticated Fenrys, too good to drink with some of his oldest friends.”

Fenrys rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “Shut the hell up, man. You are aware that you have a mate, too, right? Also, Lorcan is not my friend.” He and Acacia hadn’t planned on telling anyone that they were mates until they felt ready, but he had forgotten to hide the bite marks yesterday at breakfast and Rowan’s hawk eyes had immediately noticed them.

Those stupid eyes now gleamed at him wickedly. “Is that a yes?”

He sighed, considering the offer. They had buried Gavriel last night, the service short and perfunctory, just as Gavriel would have wanted it. Aedion had stepped in at the last minute, saying that there was an empty space for Gavriel to be buried next to Aedion’s mother. He hadn’t gone into any further details, simply saying that it was what the Lion would have wanted. So it was done. While the funeral had been fine, it felt to Fenrys like something was missing. He still wasn’t fully at peace with Gavriel’s death. Reminiscing about one of his oldest friends with people who knew him best sounded really good right now.

“I’m in,” he decided. “I’m going to go fix the problem in the armory and then tell Acacia where I’ll be. Where should I meet you?”

“Meet us in my room.”

“I’ll be there,” Fenrys agreed, turning on one heel to leave. 

Rowan fell into step beside him. “Do you think we should ask Aedion to join us?” his friend asked hesitantly.

Fenrys glanced at Rowan out of the corned of his eye, trying to hide his shock and surprise that he had even considered it. Fenrys knew there had been some initial tension between the two males when they had first met, both vying and competing for the top spot in Aelin’s affections. Obviously, they had made it work between them. “Yeah, I’ll ask him. Might be good for him to hear some stories about Gavriel.”

Rowan nodded, back to his normal stone-cold demeanor. “Good.” He turned down another hallway in a different direction from where Fenrys was going without a goodbye, but Fenrys heard his named called faintly after a few seconds. Rowan had popped his head around the corner, looking sheepish. “Will you tell Aelin where I’ll be?”

Fenrys put all the attitude he possibly could into an eye roll and walked away without answering. The male was absolutely whipped.

◊◊◊

After he had sorted out the situation in the armory, Fenry found Aelin and Acacia in the dining room, sitting with Lysandra and a plump elderly woman whose eyes kept flitting to Aelin’s and Acacia’s pointed ears and then quickly away. Aelin introduced the woman as Pavia, and apparently, she was in charge of putting together everything necessary for the upcoming coronation. The females were working on the plans for the ceremony and based upon the small sparks that occasionally flew up and blinked out above Aelin’s head, it wasn’t going that well. 

He quickly relayed his message from Rowan and informed Acacia of his plans, received a kiss on the cheek from Acacia and a scandalized glance from Pavia, and left the dining hall as fast as his feet could carry him in search of Aedion. He did not want to be in that dining hall when Aelin finally lost her temper with the old woman. 

He found Aedion down in the soldiers’ quarters, speaking with a group of men. When he saw Fenrys, Aedion excused himself from the group and came over to speak with him.

“What is it?”

Fenrys leaned against the damp gray brick wall, slightly uncomfortable in his role as messenger. Next time he’d make Rowan do his own damn errands. 

“Rowan, Lorcan and I are celebrating Gavriel’s life. We thought you might like to join us.”

Aedion’s eyes flew up to meet his in surprise, then casually drifted down to pick at a fingernail. “Nice of you to offer. But if this is a cadre thing, I don’t want to intrude.”

Fenrys had to hold back his sigh of eternal pain and shoved his hands in his pockets instead. “You wouldn’t be intruding. Just come join us.”

Aedion shrugged, maintaining his casual and unaffected air. “Yeah, alright then. I’ll join you.”

“Good, let’s go.”

“Now?”

“Yes.”

“It’s midday!” Aedion protested.

Fenrys let a hint of a sigh slip out. “That’s what I said, too. However, apparently that doesn’t matter to Lorcan. He wasn’t doing much to help out around here anyway.”

Aedion snorted, then shrugged again. “Fine. Lead the way.”

They made their way upstairs, Fenrys leading the way up the dark steps, feet lightly treading on the worn granite steps. If he was being honest with himself, he might have been secretly hoping that Aedion would decline his offer, just so he wouldn’t have to make the trek back to Rowan’s room with the man. It’s not like he didn’t like Aedion, it’s just that he didn’t enjoy making small talk and he had no idea what he should say. ‘Sorry your dad died, hope you’re not too bummed about it.’? Luckily, Aedion made the first move to break the silence that had just started to become awkward. 

“So um, how are things with Acacia going? You guys find out any news from the Wolf Tribe?”

Fenrys shook his head. “Not yet, but it’s only been two days since we talked to them and we knew it would take some time for Brye to question all of his scouts. Hopefully by tomorrow they will reach out to us with some news.”

Aedion nodded. “Cool. So what were they like? I haven’t had a chance to go check them out without being really obvious about it, I’ve just seen the tribe from a distance.”

“It was honestly really cool to walk through their camp,” Fenrys admitted. “I wanted to know more about how they train their wolves. Don’t you think that could be so useful in battle? Even for something simple like border patrol, having trained wolves would be such an advantage.”

Aedion nodded excitedly, his golden hair falling into his eyes. He brushed it aside impatiently and launched into a long and very thought out mantra about fighting wolves that lasted all the way until they reached Rowan’s room. 

Fenrys flung open the door without knocking and let out a surprised laugh. When Rowan had said that Lorcan had procured all of the ale from the local tavern, he apparently hadn’t been lying. Casket after casket of ale lined the walls of the room, one barrel already opened, frothy amber liquid spilling from the nozzle and filling a chipped mug Lorcan held beneath it. 

Behind him, Aedion let out a low whistle. “So you guys planned on getting DRUNK drunk.”

Lorcan raised the mug to his mouth and chugged the entire contents in a matter of seconds. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “We are not mortal men,” he scoffed, scorn lacing the undertones of his words. “It takes more to get us drunk.”

Rowan crossed the room and handed Fenrys and Aedion mugs already full, ale sloshing over the rims of the cups. He lifted his own cup into the air and held it as Lorcan refilled. “To Gavriel.”

“To Gavriel,” they echoed, then downed the contents. Lorcan rolled them each a casket of their own with simple instructions: “Drink up.”

Rowan brought out two chairs for Aedion and Fenrys to sit in, and as soon as Fenrys sank down into his chair, the worn seat groaning softly at his weight, Lorcan pushed his way into the center of the room, holding one hand up in a request for silence. When he had everyone’s attention, he announced, “I think we should play Atta Boy.”

Fenrys groaned and flopped his head forward dramatically, halfheartedly spewing out phrases of dissent. He heard Rowan doing the same, fiercely protesting any involvement in the game.  
Aedion nudged his elbow and leaned into whisper, “What’s Atta Boy?”

“The stupidest game you could possibly imagine that always ends with someone getting their ass beat to hell,” Fenrys explained loudly, fixing Lorcan with a glare. “Lorcan always suggests we play it because he’s the world’s biggest asshole and will make up any excuse to brag. Last time we played with Aelin, and she and Lorcan got into a screaming and pissing match that lasted for hours and effectively ended the game.”

Lorcan sneered at him. “You just don’t like playing because you always lose. Maybe if you weren’t so lame, Fenrys—”

“Who won last time, Lorcan?” Fenrys shouted, rising up from his chair and gesturing wildly with his hands. He forgot he was holding his mug and ale spilled over the sides, landing on Aedion who moved away with a small yelp. “Was it you? Was it? Because I remember wearing the crown on my head at the end of the night!”

“Because you cheated you fucking—”

“The point of the game, Aedion,” Rowan interrupted loudly, leaning over to place a hand on Fenrys chest and shove him back down into his chair, “Is to outdo the rest of the players with a story. It must be a true story, something that actually happened to you or something that you did. We all go around telling a story, and the person who goes after you has to top your story in craziness or get kicked out. Whoever has the craziest story at the end of the game gets to wear the crown.” 

Lorcan pulled an obviously fake and extremely dented metal crown out from wherever he was hiding it and held it up in the air so Aedion could see it. Aedion stared at it in disbelief. “That is what you guys get into fist fights over?”

“Don’t disrespect the crown,” Lorcan snarled at the same time Fenrys yelled, “It is a thing of beauty!” He might have already been on his third glass. 

Aedion gave him a quick glance of concern and alarm before turning to Rowan, clearly thinking he was the only sane member of the cadre currently. “Alright. So, are we going to play? I have a few wild stories I could share.”

Rowan sighed and mentally prepared himself for a rough night. “Yeah, I guess we can play. It was Gavriel’s favorite game.” 

Fenrys jumped up from his chair and ran across the room to the unlit fireplace, ready and waiting to warm the room for tonight. He grabbed a cut and unburnt log, turning it over so the pale inside faced up at him. He dipped a finger into the ashes at the bottom of the pit, then drew a smiling face on the inside of the log. He held it up triumphantly. “Here’s Gavriel,” he announced proudly, quite pleased with his work. “We can take turns telling stories for him.”

Lorcan rolled his eyes but pulled up another chair beside between his and Fenrys’, gesturing for Fenrys to place the log down. “He can sit here.”

Aedion was watching the whole exchange take place with a look of barely concealed disbelief on his face, as if he couldn’t quite comprehend that the males before him were actually the ones featured in the myths and legends exclaiming how dangerous and wild they were. 

Lorcan caught his eye, grinned, then said, “I’ll go first, start off with an easy one so you children might actually have a chance.” He proceeded to launch himself into a very detailed and extremely graphic story that Fenrys had heard multiple times before and could probably recite better than Lorcan. When it was over, Aedion’s eyes were wide and a bit unsettled. 

Feeling some sympathy for him, Fenrys handed him a full mug. “After every story, we’re supposed to drink,” he explained. Lorcan shouted, “One, two, three DOWN,” and as a synchronized unit they all lifted their drinks, saluted each other, and drank. Rowan finished first, slamming his empty cup upside down on the table they were all gathered around. 

“My turn,” he grinned. “Lorcan, you’re old as hell and you couldn’t come up with a better story then that?”

“I said I was starting off easy!” Lorcan roared, but Rowan had already started talking, gleefully describing a time he and his army had become trapped in the middle of winter on a mountain pass when an avalanche had demolished the path in front and behind them, taking out more than half of his men with it. They had had to eat snow and their extra clothing once the food ran out. Once the story was finished, Rowan shouted, “One, two, three DOWN,” and this time Aedion’s mug was the first one down on the table.

Rowan leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “Try to beat that story, boy.”

Aedion refilled his mug and shook his head. “Should be no problem. That story was lame, old timer. Just wait until you hear what happened to me my first time out on the battlefield.”

Fenrys listened to Aedion’s story in shock, honestly surprised at how well the man was keeping up with them. The cadre had lived a lot longer than Aedion’s twentysome years, but to his surprise it seemed like he had experienced almost as much as they had. 

“And that’s why, gentlemen, you never ever take random ‘herbs’ from a naked old lady you meet in the middle of the woods, or you’ll end up naked howling at the moon wearing nothing but a cloak of rabbit fur. One, two, three DOWN!”

Fenrys was caught off guard, still reeling from the wild trip Aedion’s story had led them on, and so it was Lorcan who slammed his cup down first, jumping up to do a celebratory lap around the room. If Fenrys had counted correctly, that was his now 10th mug of ale. 

“It’s Gavriel’s turn,” Lorcan shouted, holding the log up triumphantly. “I’m going to tell a story for him.”

The story Lorcan told Fenrys had never heard before, as it had occurred with just Lorcan, Gavriel and Vaughan, long before Rowan or Fenrys had taken the bloodoath and joined the cadre. The story was about Gavriel’s first time patronizing a brothel, an idea Lorcan and Vaughan had come up with to make their friend uncomfortable knowing Gavriel’s reserved and respectful personality. The story was hilarious, causing Fenrys to spit out his drink at times and had Rowan clutching his sides from laughing so hard. Aedion listened to the whole thing, engaged and unwilling to miss a single part of the story. He interjected when Lorcan reached a particularly crazy part of the tale, saying, “There’s no way my dad actually did that!”

Fenrys had to agree. “You’re spewing bullshit, Lorcan. No way.”

But Lorcan adamantly shook his head, holding his hands up hands in protest. “I swear, that’s what actually happened. When you find Vaughan, ask him. He’ll tell you I’m not lying.”

Fenrys snorted. “You bet your ass I’ll be asking him.”

Then it was Fenrys’ turn to tell a story and he chose one about Gavriel as well, the very first mission they had went on together that had ended up in a disaster. “I swear to the gods, he never let me talk during a single mission after that for the next 10 years. Every time we had to meet up with someone for intel or interrogate a suspect, he would make us go separately and then give me the wrong address of where to meet him so I wouldn’t mess anything up. It was one mistake! One!”

“One mistake that led to the sinking of 300 ships and the assassination of a queen,” Rowan pointed out, shaking his head. “I remember Gavriel getting back from that mission and telling me what happened,” he laughed. “He was so mad at you, Fenrys, I swear he was thinking about sneaking into your room and murdering you in your sleep that night. I had to calm him down, tell him it wasn’t worth it.”

“Well thank you for saving my life,” Fenrys thanked him sarcastically. “We got along a lot better, eventually,” he explained to Aedion. “Gavriel wasn’t one to hold on to things forever, and he became very invested in my training once we got to know each other. He was probably the best mentor I’ve ever had.”

Rowan nodded in agreement, holding up his mug in a salute. “To Gavriel,” he said. “One, two three DOWN!”

For the next several hours, every story they told was of Gavriel, until it felt like the male was alive in the room with them, his memories filling the cold empty spaces of the room with warmth. One time during the night, when Rowan was telling the story of how Gavriel met Aedion’s mother and three quarters of the ale supply was gone, Fenrys looked over to Aedion and saw silent tears spilling down his cheeks, fingers tightly gripping the delicate cup. Fenrys was drunk enough to scootch his chair closer and sling an arm around Aedion’s shoulder. Aedion’s eyes shot up to him in surprise, but he didn’t move away.

More stories were told, with more and more facts being disputed, drunken arguments shouted at each other across the room. Fenrys and Lorcan got into a fight over Gavriel’s favorite color, which Fenrys knew for a fact was green but Lorcan kept insisting was brown.

“Whose favorite color is brown, Lorcan? NOBODY! Who would choose the color brown over green? ONLY A PSYCHOPATH! Was Gavriel a psychopath, Lorcan? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”

“Shut the hell up, man! You have no idea what you’re talking about! Maybe YOU are the psychopath, Fenrys! We were on a mission once in the fall and he said the burnt brown of the fallen leaves was his favorite color! I’m not making it up! He said that TO MY FACE! And I REMEMBERED!”

Rowan had to break them up and sit them in opposite corners of the room with a no talking rule between them. After several minutes, Fenrys forgot what they had been arguing about and moved back to the center of the room to join in telling a story Rowan had begun about a detour Gavriel had once taken them on because he had heard a jeweler a town over made the most beautiful necklaces and he had wanted to get one for Aedion’s mother. However, once they had gotten to the town and asked for the jeweler, they had been directed to the ramshackle hut of a 90-year-old lady sewing rat tails together with disintegrating string. Fenrys had secretly bought one and regifted it to Gavriel later that year on his birthday. Lorcan had later tried to make Fenrys eat it, but Gavriel had stopped him in time before Lorcan could shove it down Fenrys’ throat.

The night passed like that, stories shouted at one another, voices overlapping while they honored the man who had meant so much to them all. Eventually, the room started spinning and voices and sounds blurred together, until Fenrys couldn’t make sense of anything anymore. He had to lay down, just for a minute or two, just until he could tell which way was up and which way was down.   
He stumbled over to the bed but tripped and started to fall. A strong hand grabbed his elbow and kept him upright. “Careful,” a voice said, and he was led over to the bed and forced to sit down. Somebody swung his legs up onto the bed and pulled a blanket over him. The bed dipped next to him, and a wall of warmth radiated to his right. Cold, Fenrys turned to the warmth and scooted over as close as he could get. He heard a lazy, “Get the fuck away from me, man,” before he blacked out.

◊◊◊

High pitched squeals burst his eardrums and shattered them into a thousand pieces. He was deaf now, would probably never hear again. He groaned and put his hands over his ears, trying to drown out the loud and obnoxious sounds coming from his left. Who the hell let the wailing cats into the room?

“I can’t believe what I’m seeing,” a voice said, extremely high-pitched and loud. Didn’t anyone ever tell them it was rude to shout at a sleeping male?

“Nobody will ever believe us when we tell them this happened,” another voice lamented, arguably louder than the first voice. 

“I’m just honored to be witnessing this phenomenon right now,” yet another voice shrilled. “I don’t care if anyone else believes me, I’ll have you two to back me up on this.”

“Absolutely,” the first voice agreed. 

Fenrys swatted a hand in what he thought was their direction. “Shut the hell up,” he mumbled, voice feeling like sandpaper in his throat. He swallowed painfully. “Im tryna sleep here.”

“Yeah, shut the hell up,” a deep scratchy voice echoed from behind him, and Fenrys froze. Who was that?

Slowly, so slowly, he willed his eyes to open and shifted in bed so he could turn and see who was behind him. “What the fuck are you doing?” he yelped, jumping up out of the bed.

Lorcan sat straight up. “Me? What were you doing?”

“You were spooning me!” Fenrys shouted in outrage, running his hands frantically over his body to get rid of all traces of Lorcan. He’d had his arm over his waist! “Why were you spooning me??”

“Why were you in MY bed?” Lorcan screamed back, pointing a finger accusingly in Fenrys’ face. “You knew I was going to be sleeping here!”

“Your bed? This isn’t even your room! How was I supposed to know you were getting the bed?”

“Because we decided this last night! We drew straws! I got the bed, you got the floor by the fireplace! This is all your fault!”

“You were spooning me!” Fenrys repeated. “Not the other way around!”

Their screaming had woken Rowan and Aedion, who had taken in every second of the argument with glee. The crown was still situated on top of Aedion’s head, tilted crookedly from when Aedion had fallen asleep sitting against the wall. Rowan grinned at Fenrys. “I didn’t know you liked being little spoon, Fenrys.”

A feminine laugh floated up from the corner of the room and Fenrys froze, his blood chilling in his veins. Oh gods, please no, he thought, and to his ultimate horror, there was Aelin, Acacia and Elide, tears of laughter streaming down their faces, holding on to each other to stay upright. 

This is it, Fenrys thought, I’m done. Let me just be struck down right here, I’m as good as dead at this point.

Aelin howled, a wavering finger pointed in Fenrys’ direction. “You two were cuddling!”

Fenrys glared at Lorcan, hoping he had managed to express all of his burning hatred and disgust for the male in the look. “You’re dead,” he hissed, then turned to storm his way out of the room. He needed to go hide by himself for a while.

“Wait,” Aelin called, running over and snatching his arm before he could leave the room. “Fenrys, wait,” she laughed, still wiping at her eyes. “Acacia has some news for you.”

He tilted his head, embarrassedly glancing over to his mate. “What is it?”

She quickly walked over to him, the morning sunshine streaming in through the window and setting her hair on fire. “Brye sent a message this morning! He has some good news, two of his scouts said they encountered some people matching the description we gave them! They know where my family could be!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys this chapter was sooo much fun to write omg I had so much fun. I know this chapter didn't have much plot but honestly, I feel like this was the chapter we were all needing in our lives. So there ya go :)


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> POV: Aelin :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Sorry for the long break :( depression, school and working full time are not really a great combination, but it's okay, we're thriving. I felt bad about not updating for like two frickin months so I just did a quick chapter from Aelin's POV cuz why the hell not! Hope y'all enjoy, let me know if maybe I should write a few more from her POV??

Chapter 20

▪▫▪

The harsh morning wind whipped through her hair, rudely tearing some strands free of her tight braid and setting them dancing in front of her face. A single golden hair tangled in her eyelashes, causing her to cuss quietly and yank her hood over her head. It was moments like these that truly made her miss her depleted magic. Who cares if she could incinerate an entire army with a thought? Was being able to warm herself on a cold morning too much to ask? 

She’d already used up a good deal of her magic this morning. Servants were scarce, so she’d ignited the fireplaces in the healers’ chambers like she had done every morning since the battle, where all of the injured people unable to move were staying. Maybe it was stupid to waste her power on something so insignificant—Rowan certainly thought so—but to her, it felt right. They’d sacrificed for her; she could withstand the cold on her own for them. 

She snorted at herself, lazily tapping her toes against the city wall she was currently leaning against and grudgingly admitting that maybe she was a bit dramatic. She’d barely been waiting for Fenrys and Acacia for 10 minutes and was already growing impatient. There was just so much to do, so many things that needed her attention at all seconds of the day. She was trying to delegate, trying to shift some of her responsibilities to people she trusted, but it was so hard. For the longest time, she’d only had herself to rely on. She’d been alone for so so long. Now that she had people she could trust—family she could trust—she was finding it harder than she would have thought to let go of some control and just trust. 

Snow crackling under two pairs of boots jolted her attention away from the mental list she was making in her mind of things she had to do after this: get an update from Yrene, meet with Aedion for a report on his progress, talk to Darrow about where the hell they were going to find more staff, a meeting before dinner with the other lords of Terrasen on rebuilding their diplomatic relations, then another meeting about her coronation plans directly after. She sighed, turning to meet her companions as they exited the gate. Today was going to be another impossibly long day.

Fenrys and Acacia walked toward her, hand in hand, and both of their eyes widened slightly in surprise when they saw her waiting. Acacia dropped Fenrys’ hand and hurried over to Aelin, concern radiating off the female in waves. 

“What’s the matter, Aelin? Did Brye send another message? Is something wrong? Do they have some bad news?”

Aelin felt herself smile and arch her eyebrows sarcastically as she pushed off from the wall and shoved her hands further into her coat pockets. Damn, if only she could warm herself. “Nothing’s wrong, Lady. Can’t a queen relax against her own hard-won castle?”

She shook her head when Fenrys narrowed his eyes at her and Acacia’s worried frown stayed frozen in place. The tiny Lady of the Forest barely came up to her shoulders, but had enough personality bundled into her small body for three people. Her guidance through Oakwald had been invaluable, and Aelin shuddered to think at what alternative fate would have struck her kingdom if Fenrys hadn’t happened to stumble across her. She knew Acacia and Elide were becoming fast friends and had thought to herself multiple times that she’d like to get to know the female better. If only Fenrys didn’t hog her so much…and if only she had room in her schedule to find time to take a piss. Maybe tonight at dinner she’d talk to her, find some rebuilding project they could work on together…

“Really though, nothing is wrong,” she assured the couple, placing a hand on Acacia’s back and steering her toward the sea of tents that belonged to the Wolf Tribe. Fenrys quickly followed, taking one step for every two of Acacia’s. “I finally got around to sending a message thanking their king for his aide, and we set up a time to meet in person today.” Something her father would have done immediately after the battle, she berated herself. She should have done better. “I thought I’d walk with you since we were going the same way and hear what the scouts have to say about your family and Vaughan,” she finished. 

She watched the worry melt from Acacia’s face. “How nice!” she exclaimed, then pointed to an approaching figure in the distance. “Oh look, there’s Mirona!” She waved excitedly.

Mirona lifted her arm in greeting and murmured a soft, “Good morning,” to them when they met. Aelin jealously admired her thick fur coat and gloves. 

“Brye is waiting for you, along with two scouts,” she informed Fenrys and Acacia as she led them past the sentries standing guard at the entrance to their camp with a nod. She then turned and said something to Aelin, who was too busy gawking at the wolves to pay attention. There were so many of them! And the tribe rode them into battle like a bunch of Fae warriors from ancient legends her mother had told her when she was little! 

She was forced to draw her attention back when Fenrys elbowed her in the ribs. Aelin sneakily elbowed him back as she apologetically turned to Mirona, who was watching her with a slight hint of amusement in her almond eyes. “I’m sorry, what?” She had to forcibly hold back a gasp of awe as an enormous midnight wolf lumbered by them, rider sitting proudly astride. That was it: she needed to add some wolves to her army. She made a mental note to discuss the potential with Aedion at their meeting today.

Mirona smiled gently and repeated herself. “You are meeting today with King Rafe?”

“Yes, I am,” Aelin replied, eyes still trailing the wolf and its rider as they swiftly broke into a run towards the forest edging the far side of the camp. She commented some pleasantry on how nice it would be to finally meet him and thank him for all his help before she blurted, “Where are they going?”

Mirona’s eyes furrowed in confusion before she caught the direction of Aelin’s gaze. “Oh, that is one of our scouts going on a patrol. Just because we won the battle does not mean we can let our guard down.”

“How right you are,” Aelin murmured, growing even more impressed with King Rafe than she already was. She let a shiver of excitement run down her spine in anticipation of their upcoming meeting.   
Their guide stopped in front of a tent and motioned for them to wait while she ducked inside and announced them. She reappeared a moment later, gesturing for them to enter. When Aelin’s eyes adjusted to the dim light of the tent, she counted three figures in front of her and disappointingly no wolves to be seen. 

An older fae male rose from a seated position when they entered, eyes immediately flickering to her face and the golden hair currently hidden away beneath her hood. She wondered if he would recognize her, and her question was answered when he bowed deeply to her, one hand held in a fist over his heart. 

“Welcome, Queen Aelin. My name is Brye, and I am head scout of the Wolf Tribe. Your visit is an honor. How may I be of assistance to you?”

Aelin instantly decided that she liked him and returned his greeting with a respectful nod. “The honor is mine, Brye. I’m here to see what news you have for my friends, and then I am meeting with your King.”

“Then let’s not keep you waiting,” he smiled, the corners of his eyes wrinkling pleasantly. He waved a gloved hand towards the two fur-encased scouts standing beside him, introducing the tall female as Lakita and the stocky male as Jasper. “Please, tell our friends what you have told me.”

After exchanging a glance, Lakita stepped forward and directed her attention towards Fenrys. Speaking in a low, heavily accented voice, she asked, “You are the one who asked about the man-bird?”

Aelin heard Fenrys choke back a laugh and knew he would store away the new moniker of ‘man-bird’ to share with the rest of the cadre to tease Vaughan with relentlessly. “Yes, that is me. Do you know where he is?”

“I saw him, one months’ time ago, maybe less.” 

Beside her, Fenrys stiffened with excitement. “Where did you see him? How did you know it was him? Did you speak to him? Was he alright?”

“I went on mission to northern island, Bandava. Jasper was there, too.” Jasper gave a nod of confirmation but remained silent. “All the people there, they don’t look like him. He was too tall, had black hair. He asked us questions, was hunting someone down but not rushed or urgent. One night, a scout said he turn into bird and fly away. We did not see him again.”

“Did he say how long he was staying? Do you think he’s still there? Did he tell you any of his plans?”

Lakita’s eyes widened at Fenrys’ avalanche of questions and quickly shook her head. “He said no more to us. I am sorry. That is all I know.”

Fenrys frowned and opened his mouth, obviously to interrogate Lakita further, but Acacia placed a hand on his arm and squeezed gently. He snapped his mouth shut and gave Lakita a nod. “Thank you. Your information was very helpful.”

Lakita murmured a response and, after a nod of consent from Brye, quickly slipped out of the tent. Brye then turned to Jasper, still standing silently by his side. “Now for you.”

Jasper smiled at Acacia and said, “About a year ago, I was sent on a mission to Wendlyn. I don’t remember exactly why I was there, I think maybe our King wanted to monitor Prince Galan, see how his relations with Maeve were or something of the sort. Doesn’t really matter. Well, that was my first time out of Erilea, first time outside of our territory in the North actually, so I uh, I wanted to do some exploring.” He shot a sheepish look at Brye who simply motioned for him to continue. Aelin thought she caught a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “There’s a city there, north of the capital Varese, called Sirsenols that I stopped at an inn for the night. It was run by a woman with violet eyes, just like yours. I had never seen eyes that color before, so I commented on them and when I did, she seemed to get very nervous, glancing around to see if anyone heard, that kind of behavior. I didn’t really think anything about it at the time, thought maybe she had someone with magic make them that color,” he laughed. “I didn’t think anymore on it until Brye asked us if we’d ever seen anyone matching the description you gave him.”

Aelin glanced over at Acacia to see her reaction to the news and saw her gripping Fernys’ hand tightly enough to draw a wince from the male. The tiny female seemed at a loss for words, so Aelin stepped in with her own question. 

“Did you see anyone else with violet eyes, any possible family members? Anyone else in the town with eyes like that?”

Jasper shook his head vigorously, the hood of his coat falling back to reveal tangled curly brown hair. Pulling his hood back up to cover his ears, he replied, “No, sorry your highness. She was the only one I saw. Didn’t get her name, either.”

“Do you remember the name of the inn?” Acacia asked, words rushing out in a hopeful breath.

Another shake of the head. “No, Lady. Apologies.”

“Please, don’t be sorry. You’ve given me hope of finding my family when I had none before.” Taking several quick steps forward, Acacia reached up on the tips of her toes to press a gentle kiss to the scout’s cheek. “I am grateful beyond words for your help.”

Fenrys mimicked her words, voice tight, and Aelin had to hold back her own laugh as she saw the male visibly try to restrain his urge to yank Acacia away from Jasper. Territorial fae bastards.   
Brye seemed to sense Fenrys’ mood swing as well, and quickly dismissed his scout with a few words. Within moments, Mirona appeared in the tent’s entrance. 

Brye turned to Aelin and gestured to Mirona. “Please, Mirona will take you to your meeting with King Rafe now. I will stay to answer any more questions your companions might have.” 

After a few subtle blinks in Fenrys’ direction, Aelin bid the head scout farewell and followed Mirona out of the tent, anticipation bubbling up inside of her. Now it was time to learn how to acquire some wolves of her own. After she fell down onto her hands and knees and thanked the king over and over again for his help, of course. She did have some manners, regardless of what Rowan might say about her.

▪▫▪

Later, she sat naked in her tub full of barely warm water and just let herself feel. Feel absolutely everything she had been pushing down for the past few days, the past few weeks. 

She felt the pain: her farewell with Manon and the heart wrenching loss of the Thirteen. The future goodbyes she would have to say to her friends. The sorrow that came with every death report from the healers. Her own invisible scars, still healing from being locked away and tortured for hours on end. Nehemia unable to witness her coronation. Gavriel.

She felt the emptiness: the gaping hole where her magic once was that she was slowly getting used to. The foggy cloud that settled over her when she thought of what her court had gone through for her sake. The days when she woke up and had to remind herself of her purpose and who she was.

She felt the doubt and the worry: Could she rule Terrasen? Did she actually think that after all the horrible crimes she’d committed, after all the blood she spilled that would be forever tattooed onto her skin, did she actually think she deserved to rule? And that her people would want to follow her?

She felt the rage: everything she’d had to sacrifice. All the pushback she still received from the other lords of Terrasen. The way they looked at Lysandra and little Evangeline.

And then she felt the hope and the joy: sunrises without bloodshed. A future filled with magic and possibly children of her own. A library, where she could sit and read to Rowan about far off kingdoms and democracies. A court who would serve her without fail, stand proudly beside her without question, and die for her without a thought. Her friends. Her family. Her home. She had promised herself, months and months ago, that she would not pretend to be anything but what she was. She had crawled through darkness and blood and despair-she had survived. 

My name is Aelin Ashryver Galathynius and I will not be afraid.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenrys' POV and Aelin's coronation day!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fenrys has so many emotions we looooove it. Also, the ball scene is next and you bet your ass I will be writing a detailed scene about that

Chapter 21

◊◊◊

Days passed, and they planned: planned, cleaned and helped rebuild. Days packed full from the moment their eyes blinked away the heavy sleep to welcome the dawn until they shut once again long after the stars had stolen the sky away from the sun. By the time he went to bed, Fenrys could hardly find the strength to drag his body across the room to climb into bed. Depending on the night, Acacia was either already passed out on her side of the bed or still working somewhere in the castle. He missed her, and was growing steadily more and more irritated with every day that passed and he only managed to say a few words to her in passing. He knew the others could sense his rising irritation: they all steered clear of him and left him alone to his work, even Lorcan. He just wanted to be with his mate, gods damn it.

He’d cornered her in the staircase yesterday afternoon as she was taking a basket of herbs up from the gardens to the healers’ room, pressed her up against the cold brick walls and tried to show her just how much he disliked being apart from her all day. But then someone had come hurrying down the staircase and interrupted them and Acacia had had to calm him down before he shouted at them to leave them alone.

It would all be over soon, he reminded himself as he stumbled out of bed this morning, Acacia already long gone to the kitchens to help with breakfast. Today was Aelin’s coronation, and they would be leaving the second week after. 

Fenrys tugged on a random pair of pants and a decent smelling shirt before swiping his fingers through his hair and heading out the door, choosing to forgo checking his reflection in the mirror. He reviewed their plans in his head as he jogged down the steps to the kitchen, stomach growling loudly in the quiet morning air. 

They would go to Bandava first, to look for Vaughan. Brye had been kind enough to write down directions and some information on who to contact once they reached the island. A ship was set to take them from a small port on the eastern coast of Terrasen through the North Sea until they reached the small island. After they found Vaughan, they would give him the options of travelling with them to search for Acacia’s family or giving him directions on how to find the rest of the cadre back in Terrasen. 

If he was being completely honest with himself, Fenrys had no idea what Vaughan would choose to do. Like the rest of the males, Vaughan was drawn to power, and felt the compelling need to serve a strong leader. He might want to take the blood oath to Aelin, but he could also never want to serve someone again, choosing instead to spend the rest of his life underneath his own control, with no missions, no orders, no wars. And while Fenrys would certainly miss the male if that was the path he chose, he certainly wouldn’t blame him. Maeve had managed to break all of them, take them all apart individually and torture them in unique ways designed to shatter them completely until they were nothing but obedient and numbed in the mind. Aelin was nothing like Maeve, but maybe Vaughan wouldn’t know that.

Fenrys realized it was apparently later in the morning that he had thought once he made it to the dining room and saw the tables mostly empty, with only a few people scattered throughout the room. He saw Lorcan sitting at one table alone, Elide and the others nowhere to be found. He sighed heavily to himself, piled his plate with the few scraps of breakfast that remained and made his way over to where Lorcan sat. 

He nodded tersely at the male as he sat down, avoiding eye contact to the best of his ability. He still found it difficult to look Lorcan in the eye after that very…unfortunate…morning after they had celebrated Gavriel’s life. His face flushed from just thinking about it. 

As if he could read his mind, Lorcan smirked at him and stretched his arms over his head, letting out an exaggerated yawn. “You’re up late this morning,” he commented.

Fenrys scowled into his cold bowl of porridge, stirring in some cream with excessive force. He let out a curse when some cream splashed over the side of the bowl and landed on his cornbread muffin, quickly soaking into the bread and creating a soggy spot he knew he would now have to eat around. He decided to ignore Lorcan.

“Your little forest pixie was telling me about your plans this morning,” Lorcan continued, seemingly oblivious to Fenrys’ darkening mood. “Are you really going to be idiotic enough to sail across the North Sea in the middle of winter?”

“It’s not an idiotic thing to do, the sea is fine,” Fenrys muttered under his breath.

“Ah, yes, I forgot how much sailing experience you have,” Lorcan said sarcastically, pushing his empty plate across the table and into Fenrys’ space. Fenrys immediately shoved it back in Lorcan’s direction. “You gonna ask to captain the boat yourself?”

“Why are you still sitting here, Lorcan? Isn’t there some task you should be doing to help for Aelin’s coronation?”

Lorcan rolled his eyes, shoving his plate closer to Fenrys. His fork slipped off the plate and clattered onto the hardwood table. “I’m waiting for Elide. She volunteered to help wash up after breakfast.”

“Go help her,” Fenrys suggested, trying to shovel as much porridge into his mouth as he could.

“I’m perfectly fine right here,” was all Lorcan said, lazily picking up the fallen fork and beginning to tap out an obnoxious rhythm on the tabletop. 

Rowan’s abrupt entrance into the dining room was the only thing that saved Lorcan from getting his face smashed into the table. The male’s piercing green eyes narrowed when he spotted the pair sitting down, and he made his way over to where they where sitting. Lorcan and Fenrys exchanged a look and Fenrys could tell they were thinking the same thing: Rowan would not be fun to deal with today.   
“What the hell are you two doing down here still? Why aren’t you dressed yet? Aelin’s coronation is an exactly one hour and you’re just down here messing around? Go get dressed. Fenrys, brush your hair, you look like a flock of damn birds made their nests in your hair. Lorcan, that better not be what you’re wearing. Go get dressed and meet me in the throne room. Hurry up.”

Fenrys watched in disbelief as Rowan stormed out of the dining room, most likely in search of some poor helpless servant to terrorize. 

He heard Lorcan snort, “Who the hell does he think he is?”

“The queen’s consort, most likely,” Fenrys scoffed, then shoved the rest of his breakfast down his throat and got up to follow Rowan’s instructions. Today was not the day to piss of Rowan. 

Once back in his room, it took him longer than he cared to admit to pick out an outfit Rowan (and Acacia) would deem appropriate for the occasion. It’s not like he carried a bunch of fancy clothes with him to war, okay? Not like SOME queen he could name. 

Twenty minutes later, twenty painful minutes full of swearing and excruciating hair brushing and styling and forcing his body into uncomfortable clothes that were NOT PRACTICAL he crammed his feet into his boots (he didn’t care what creative and merciless forms of torture Rowan threatened, he was absolutely NOT giving up his boots) and slammed the door shut behind him. In the end, he had picked a clean(ish) white shirt with a brown leather jacket over top, with the nicest pair of pants he could find. He wasn’t going to win any fashion awards, but at least he wouldn’t be an embarrassment to their court.

Fenrys’ mood lightened once he reached the throne room and took in the breathtaking scene before him. The servants and helpers had scrubbed the room from floor to ceiling, and every surface sparkled and gleamed in the soft warm light emitted by the thousands of candles flickering around the room. Evergreen garlands hung from the pews and rafters, soft snow fell in the background hiding the worst of the remaining battle’s scars and carefully selected and arranged flowers and bundles of holly were placed around the room. This was everything Aelin deserved, and more. 

He spotted Rowan waiting impatiently on the dais, arms behind his back, hawk eyes scanning the room for anything out of place. The prince was dressed in a pine green jacket, threaded with silver, with Goldryn swinging at his hip. At least Rowan looked as uncomfortable in the fancy clothes as Fenrys felt. 

Rowan nodded as he approached, scanning him from head to toe. Apparently, Fenrys met his standards and the prince remained silent, withholding any criticisms he might have. Fenrys came to stand next to him, joining Rowan in surveying the empty throne room.

“Are you ready?”

Rowan nodded, eyes darting to the doorway where people were beginning to trickle in and find their seats. 

Fenrys laughed quietly to himself at the prince’s vigilance and asked, “What about Aelin? Is she ready?”

Rowan’s eyes drifted to his, and then back to the doorway. Fenrys noticed some of the stress melt from his face when he spotted Lorcan and Aedion making their way up to the dais, Lysandra and Elide trailing a few feet behind them. Lorcan looked more uncomfortable than all of the males put together, clad in burial black and even his hair was brushed and smoothed back from his face, Elide’s doing for sure. Aedion wore Terrasen green and looked ready to burst with pride. Rowan greeted them quietly as the males took up their places on the other side of Fenrys. Aedion elbowed Fenrys playfully in the gut as a greeting. 

Remembering Fenrys had asked him a question, Rowan softly said, “She was born ready for this.”

The throne room continued to fill with people, Terrasen green splattering the room everywhere you looked. Aedion leaned closer to Fenrys and pointed out the rulers and allies sitting in the first few rows, cracking jokes until Lorcan hissed and called them a pair of old gossiping crones. 

A hush snaked through the room, and Fenrys’ attention drifted to the open doors at Aedion’s audible swallow next to him. The young man had been covering up his nerves earlier with jokes, but Fenrys could feel his body trembling slightly and noticed his hands clenched into fists. This day was just as important to him as it was to Rowan, maybe even more so. Aedion had sacrificed so much for this moment, had waited for so long to see his cousin ascend the throne. 

Trumpets rang out, a four-note summons repeated three times, and Fenrys’ heart thumped painfully in his chest in anticipation with each note. Pews groaned as everyone twisted to the doors.   
Behind the dais, hidden beyond a painted wooden screen, a small group of musicians began playing a processional. Not the grand, sprawling orchestra that might accompany an event of this magnitude, but better than nothing. It didn’t matter anyway.

Not as Elide appeared in a lilac gown, a garland of ribbons atop her braided black hair. Poised and graceful, the Lady of Perranth kept her shoulders thrown back as she clutched the bouquet of holly before her and walked to the dais. Lady of Perranth—and one of Aelin’s handmaidens. For today. 

For Aelin’s coronation.

Elide was halfway down the aisle when Lysandra appeared, clad in green velvet. He heard Aedion’s sharp intake of breath and glanced over at his friend to see Aedion’s eyes stuck on Lysandra, watching every step she took down the aisle. 

Then came little Evangeline, green ribbons in her red-gold hair, beaming, those scars stretched wide in utter joy. Fenrys caught her eye and gave her a wink, and then watched with warm amusement as those scars stretched even wider as she gave him a two-eyed wink back.

Then Fenrys’ world stopped turning. Acacia walked gracefully toward him, several steps behind Evangeline, and he wanted to sink to his knees. He had never seen anyone so beautiful, never seen anyone that made him feel at once hollow yet so full of emotion, so unworthy but so loved. She was wearing an ice blue dress, lace filling the deep v-cut dip of the dress, tiny dark blue gems scattered over the dress and catching in the candlelight. Her hair was unbound, each curl carefully loose and defined, a garland of ribbons resting on the crown of her head and twisting in the locks of her hair. Kohl lined her eyes in the fashion of the south, matching Yrene, and made her violet eyes look unbearably deep. Desire coursed through him, and he was seconds away from dragging her into a closet, coronation be damned. 

Their eyes locked and his breath left his body. He loved this female. She smiled at him, that sweet smile that managed to melt his bones every damn time and ran her eyes up and down his body. She gave him a subtle not of approval as she made her way up the steps to the throne, taking her place on the right side beside Evangeline. 

It took a monumental amount of effort to drag his eyes away from his mate, but he soon forgot all about her as the music rose and rose, the Song of Terrasen ringing out. And when the music hit its peak, when the world exploded with sound, regal and unbending, she appeared. 

Fierce pride radiated from his chest as everyone rose to their feet, and he could have sworn he saw Rowan’s knees buckle and a tear slip out of Aedion’s eye as the cadre beheld her. Their queen. Clad in flowing, gauzy green and silver, her golden hair unbound, Aelin paused on the threshold of the throne room. 

Aelin gazed down the long aisle. As if weighing every step she would take to the dais. To her throne. 

The entire world seemed to pause with her, lingering on the threshold. Shining brighter than the snow outside, Aelin lifted her chin and began her final walk home. Some embers flickered in her footsteps, bobbing in the wake of her gown’s train as it flowed behind her. 

Fenrys glanced at Rowan, to the right of the throne, and saw his teeth bared in a fierce grin. Another glance over at Aedion revealed escaped tears, finally set free to run down his face. Lorcan, on his other side, was stone faced and stiff, but years of familiarity with the male allowed Fenrys to detect a gleam of silver in the corners of his eyes. Fenrys had to swallow hard to force his own tears down, softly clearing his throat and clenching his hands at his side. This was what they had fought for. This was the moment where everything made sense, where all of his sacrifices, every single moment of pain he had endured was worth it. His queen was finally getting her crown. 

The ceremony passed in a blur, partially from the tears clouding his vision and threatening to overspill with one wrong movement. Aelin climbed the stairs and knelt upon the top one. Darrow motioned for the hall to sit, and then began speaking in the Old Language, a call and answer with Aelin that sounded like the most beautiful and enchanting song in the world. 

I, Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius, swear upon my immortal soul to guard, to nurture, and to honor Terrasen from this day until my very last.

Then so it shall be.

Evangeline stepped forward with a green velvet pillow, barely able to contain a proud smile. Aelin’s golden crown shone in the candlelight, twining bands, like woven antlers, rose to uphold a cut bit of crystal containing the sole bloom of kingsflame left from Orlon’s reign. Rowan had drunkenly explained the important bit of history to him several nights ago. 

The red and orange blossom glowed like a ruby, dazzling in the light of the morning sun as Darrow lifted the crown from the pillow. He raised it toward the shaft of light pouring through the bank of windows behind the dais, this blessing from Mala herself. 

When the crown rested upon her head, Aelin let her power shine, illuminating every corner of the room, and breaking down the final barrier holding back Fenrys’ tears. 

“Rise,” Darrow said, “Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius, Queen of Terrasen. Long may she reign.”

And as Aelin turned, the call went up through the hall, echoing off the ancient stones and into the gathered city beyond the castle, the voice of Rowan, Aedion, Lorcan and Fenrys’ loudest of all, “Hail, Aelin! Queen of Terrasen!”

Then Aelin turned to the left, toward Aedion, and said quietly, but not weakly, “This has been yours from the day you were born, Prince Aedion.” Fenrys felt Aedion turn stone still beside him as Aelin pushed back the gauzy sleeve of her gown, exposing her forearm. 

Aedion’s shoulders shook with the force of his tears, and Fenrys’ had to wipe his own eyes multiple times so he could watch as Aedion just fell to his knees before his queen when she asked, lips wobbling, “Will you swear the blood oath to me?”

Rowan silently handed her a dagger, but Aelin paused as she held it over her arm. “You fought for Terrasen when no one else would. Against all odds, beyond all hope, you fought for this kingdom. For me. For these people. Will you swear to continue to do so, for as long as you draw breath?”

Aedion’s head bowed as he breathed, “Yes. In this life, and in all others, I will serve you. And Terrasen.”

Aelin smiled at Aedion and sliced open her forearm before extending it to him. “Then drink, Prince. And be welcome.”

Fenrys searched for Acacia in the crowd as Aedion took Aelin’s arm and drank. He choked on a laugh when he finally found her and saw Yrene frantically wiping up the khol running down Acacia’s cheeks from all the crying his mate was doing. At least he wasn’t the only one getting emotional.

Aelin looked to Darrow, who was waiting patiently beside the queen. “Where were we?”

The old lord smiled slightly and gestured to the throne. “The last piece of this ceremony.”

“Then lunch,” Fenrys couldn’t help but mutter, thinking back to his skimpy and hurried breakfast this morning. 

Aelin halted before she sat on the throne, noticing the small figures who poked their heads around the throne room doors. A small gasp escaped her, enough that everyone else turned to look.  
“The Little Folk,” people murmured, some backing away as small figures darted through the shadows down the aisle, wings rustling and scales gleaming. Fenrys noticed some stop and gather around Acacia, Lady of the Forest, before one of them approached the dais, and with spindly greenish hands, laid their offering at Aelin’s feet.

A second crown, Mab’s crown.

Aelin picked up the crown, gaping toward the small gathering who clustered in the shadows beyond the pews, their dark, wide eyes blinking. 

“The Fairie Queen of the West,” Fenrys heard Elide whisper softly, dreamily. 

His queen’s fingers trembled as she traced the lines of the crown, then looked to the Little Folk. “Yes,” she said to them. “I will serve you, too. Until the end of my days.” And then she bowed to them.   
Following her lead, Fenrys and the rest of the cadre bowed to them as well, and then everyone in the throne room. But the Little Folk were already gone.

Aelin placed Mab’s crown atop the one of gold and crystal and silver and then finally sat upon her throne. A feeling of rightness—Fenrys didn’t know how else to describe it—swept over the room, and Aelin lifted her head to survey the cheering crowd, and when she smiled, Queen of Terrasen and the Faerie Queen of the West, she burned bright as a star. 

Later, when they went to greet the rest of Terrasen outside on the city streets, Fenrys knew he would remember this moment for the rest of his life: his proud queen, finally claiming her throne. His friends, his brothers, hands clasped tightly on each other’s shoulders, silently exclaiming and rejoicing in their newfound freedom with a queen who would die for each of them. His mate, the love of his life, cheering so loudly her voice cracked with every shout. And Terrasen itself, the people who adored their queen and had fought so hard to reclaim what was theirs—a kingdom that welcomed everyone, a place where lost souls could call home. 

Fenrys slung an arm around Aedion’s shoulder and let the cheering and clanging bells wash over him, wiping away some of the dark memories of the past. He was home.


End file.
